


Eleven Nights with Achilles

by xmzame



Series: Eleven Nights with Achilles [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cats, Dean isn't allergic to cats in this ok, Dean/Cas Big Bang, Dean/Cas Big Bang Challenge 2017, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Mostly Fluff, Teacher Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-06 02:56:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 34,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12202497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xmzame/pseuds/xmzame
Summary: Dean isn’t the best with cats, but when he’s asked to catsit for Sam and Jess while they’re away for their honeymoon, he doesn’t expect much to happen in a short period of time. He also doesn’t expect to face the ridiculously good looking neighbour across the hall and his own inability to ask him out.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is, pals! My first DCBB :D I'm so, so, glad I got this done in time and that I didn't abandon this work last year. I honestly loved writing this so much and grew so attached to 11NWA's Dean and Cas. I kept them secret for so long that it feels weird now showing them to the world :'D oh well.
> 
> Huge thanks to my very kind, lovely, and talented artist, izulkowa! Isn't the art just beautiful???
> 
> Another big thank you to my beta, phantasticallydepressed(tumblr)/kittysprinkles(ao3), for making this fic so much more readable, and for dealing with my annoying emails.
> 
> And thank YOU for clicking on this fic! Enjoy reading ;D

****

**3 rd September, Sunday**

The weather in Brooklyn this morning is rather lovely than most days. Dean feels content looking at the cloudy sky, finally in exchange for the blazing heat August has sent them for nearly the whole month through. He sits comfortably on the sofa by the bay window with a cup of coffee in hand. He hasn’t had a coffee as good as the one he was having in a long time. Perfectly brewed, black, and _not_ microwaved.

He shuts his eyes as he takes another sip and sighs. He really needs to start appreciating peaceful mornings like this.

_Moment of appreciation: over._

Hot coffee splashes like a puddle onto his shirt, and Dean doesn’t take a long time to figure out how.

“Damn it, Achilles!” Dean hisses at the golden-haired cat on him. He puts the cup away on the small round table behind the sofa and sighs.

Achilles is propped on Dean’s lap leisurely, as if he hadn’t just bounced onto Dean without notice. Dean stares at the coffee stain on his shirt and frowns at the golden American Curl as he tries to lift him up. Achilles already has his claws dug into Dean’s pants for him to go anywhere.

“I didn’t burn you anywhere, did I? Jess would kill me,” Dean mutters, checking to see if his coffee spilt elsewhere. Achilles only purrs, and Dean takes that as a sign of ‘no’. “Well, give me a heads up next time, you big squirrel _._ ” He strokes the cat’s back a few times, and when Dean’s expecting it to just quietly stay that way, Achilles pounces onto Dean’s chest.

“Woah, woah. Okay, easy there,” Dean mumbles, slouching against the arm of the sofa. He gently scratches Achilles by the neck, relaxing him again. Dean shies his face away, because Achilles isn’t just furry everywhere, he’s pretty big as well, despite only being a year old or so.

“Aw, you guys are getting along already!”

Dean turns his head to the sweet voice of Jessica Moore, standing by the end of the living room with a roller bag by her side. Achilles hops off Dean’s chest and dashes his way to Jess’ feet. Jess is already crouching for him, letting her long floral sundress sweep the floor.

Dean gets himself off the sofa. “So, you guys all ready to go?” he asks.

Jess looks up at him, petting Achilles by the chin. “Sam’s still packing up a few things, but after that we’ll be ready to leave.”

Dean frowns. “What’s taking him so long?”

“I don’t know,” Jess says. She turns and raises her voice enough for Sam to hear, “Maybe if he started packing before the wedding and not an hour ago, we’d be in the cab by now!”

“I’ll be out in a minute!” Sam yells back from the bedroom.

Jess shakes her head and looks back to Achilles, scratching the base of his curled ears. “Mommy’s gonna miss you, you handsome goofball.”

“That’s nice. I’m gonna miss you too, Jess,” Dean jokes. “Hey, when did I start calling you Mommy again?”

Jess rolls her eyes at him, lightly slapping him on the arm. She glances up again with a light in her eyes. “I almost forgot!” she exclaims, hurrying her way to the kitchen.

“You had breakfast already, Jess,” Dean teases. Achilles follows after her. “And so did your cat.”

Jess returns several seconds later with a full listed paper. She smiles as she hands it to Dean. “I made a list of things you should know while you’re taking care of Achilles.”

Dean scans through the list, barely reading any of the sentences. “That’s a really long list for a cat,” he says.

Jess nods and claps him on the shoulder twice. “Good luck!”

Dean’s about to comment on how she loves the cat more than his brother, but the sound of wheels rolling onto the wooden floor catches both their attention.

“I’m ready,” Sam announces. His eyes lingers on Jess in front of him, lovingly smiling at her. “You look amazing.”

Jess beams back at him. “So do you.”

Dean rolls his eyes at the couple and does a loud clearing of his throat. “Alright honeymooners, get out of my sight.”

Jess chuckles and takes her bag, following Sam to the door. Dean walks behind them slowly as he folds the list and shoves it into his pocket.

The couple stop their bags at the door and turn to Dean for the goodbye hugs. Sam goes first, clapping his brother’s back as they hug.

“Thanks again, Dean,” Sam says.

Dean smiles. “Just remember you owe me for this.”

Jess wraps her arms around Dean next, muttering a soft goodbye into his ear. She gives him a chaste kiss on the cheek before pulling away.

“Oh, don’t open the windows too much. Achilles might jump. Don’t rub his belly, don’t drink coffee near him, don’t—”

“I know, I know. You gave me a list, remember?” Dean assures.

Sam grins down at her and gently holds her shoulder. “Dean knows how to take care of a cat. C’mon, we should get going.”

Jess sighs and nods. “Okay. Paris here we come!” She grabs her bag and starts to turn for the door.

“Have fun. Don’t eat frog legs!” Dean said, waving a hand to them.

“Bye Dean! Bye Achilles!”

Dean bends down and holds Achilles to his spot to stop him from scurrying out the door as Sam and Jess finally make their leave. When the door closes, Dean lets go of his hold and Achilles hastens to the door, scratching the surface.

Dean sighs.

“I don’t know how to take care of a _cat._ ”

 

+++

 

The rest of the afternoon’s more normal than Dean thought it would have been. Dean just has to learn how to stay away from Achilles most of the time and let the cat do his own thing. He honestly hopes this was how it was gonna be for the next eleven days.

Achilles meows loudly from the kitchen, and Dean realizes it’s time for lunch for the both of them.

“Hey buddy,” Dean calls as he looks down on Achilles waiting by the food bowl. “Please don’t be a fuss today.” He pours some dry cat food into the bowl. Achilles sniffs the bowl a couple of times and eventually starts eating, much to Dean’s relief.

Dean has the lunch Jess prepared for him in the fridge for the first day, and a few hours later of petting, throwing kick-toys and staying away from Achilles in the bedroom, Dean has to get going for class in the evening.

 

+++

 

Dean drops his bag as he enters the studio, walking quickly to the middle as he calls out to the room, “Sorry I’m late. There was a bunch of cat crap-”

Dean pauses when he realizes he’s talking to a group he wasn’t expecting. A younger, smaller, group with tutus. He definitely walked into the right studio, judging by the oversized poster at the back. About ten little girls stare at him in confusion. One of them ask, “Who are you?”

In the corner he finally sees the ballet instructor, crossing her arms with a smirk on her face.

Dean sighs. “Joanna Beth Harvelle, did you forget to remind me to read my email again?” he asks her.

“Don’t call me that,” Jo says as she walks to him. “And no I didn’t. I sent you a text yesterday.”

“I didn’t get a message,” Dean scoffs and scavenges for his phone in his bag.

“ _Did_ you not?”

Dean checks his messages, and the third thread is an unread message from Jo Harvelle.

**_Check your email. Your class is cancelled tomorrow._ **

“Oh. There it is,” Dean says with a nervous laugh, getting a glare in return.

“Dean, you’re a big boy now. Time to check your emails and messages by yourself,” Jo teases.

Dean rolls his eyes. “Okay, I better go. Have fun with your kids.”

“Mr Winchester,” a tiny voice calls as Dean’s about to turn for the door.

Dean stops and looks back at the room, not knowing who exactly he was speaking to. “Yeah?”

The girl in front raises her hand with a shy smile. “I was wondering, is it true that you were once a mouse on The Nutcracker?” she asks.

Dean blinks several times and glares in Jo’s direction. Jo has a hand over her mouth, hiding a smile.

He smirks. “No, no. That’s not true. Ms Joanna here just has a big crush on me, and she likes making up stories.”

The little girls giggle and some even _“oooh”_ at her.

Jo shakes her head and laughs. “Winchester, you’re a funny guy.”

“See? Look at her, complimenting me all the time,” Dean teases further. The girls whisper among themselves and chuckle.

Jo rolls her eyes and takes off one of her pointe shoes. “Alright, alright. Scram out of here, mouse!”

“Pet names, that’s cute—”

Dean has time to duck and run before the shoe can hit him smack in the face. He can still hear the giggles erupt from the studio room, and he can’t help but laugh himself. Jo’s definitely setting a great example to her students.

 _Mouse._ He was no ordinary mouse. He was the Mouse _King._

Only in college, of course.

 

+++

 

On the way back to the apartment, Dean remembers he needs to come up with new choreography for that couple who were asked to perform at their friend’s wedding, to create a “fun and bouncy” vibe for once, according to them. The couple suggested _It’s A Beautiful Day_ by Michael Buble, and Dean can’t help but wonder if either of them had properly listened to the lyrics of that song and thought, _Yeah! Great choice for a wedding._

Dean only knows that one line in the chorus, yet the song sticks in his head all the way back to the apartment. He hums it softly as he walks down the hallway and shuffles for the keys in one of his pockets.

“It’s a beautiful day and I can’t stop myself from smiling,” He sings under his breath and does the turn to Sam and Jess’ place.

The first thing he sees is a full grocery bag. Two, in fact. They’re in the arms of someone across Sam and Jess’ apartment. Dean didn’t even know Sam and Jess had a neighbour who lived across them.

The person is facing the door, but their face is hidden by the two large paper bags, held by one arm, or at least _trying_ to be held. They’re having a hard time balancing while their other hand scavenges for something in their pocket.

Dean slowly walks to them and puts down his bag. “Hey, do you need help?” he asks.

The person turns to him quickly, as if he wasn’t expecting Dean’s presence at all. One of the grocery bags immediately tips over, causing a bag of apples to fall out from the end of the bag.

Dean was always great with reflexes. The amount of times Jess almost dropped something from one of the kitchen shelves taught him that.

He bends down and catches the bag of apples in time before it could reach the floor. He doesn’t even have time to say anything before a tied up bunch of kale starts to fall, and Dean quickly uses a second hand to catch that above his head as well.

“God- I’m so sorry,” the person’s voice finally speaks. One hand of theirs gives a grocery bag to the other hand and lowers them, allowing Dean to finally see the person’s face in the middle. It’s a guy who looks far too embarrassed, and Dean nearly takes a step back at how good he looked.

The guy has a nice blue in his eyes and a pink chapped mouth, surrounded by light stubble. His dark hair looks as if he started combing it nicely upwards and gave up halfway through.

Dean just stands there for a second or two, or five, he isn’t sure, but he knows he looks like an idiot with apples and kale in his two hands.

“That- that’s okay,” Dean stutters, smiling. “Uh, I can help with you that.”

The guy seems to take in Dean’s appearance as well for a few seconds. Dean severely hopes the Henley he wore doesn’t make him look sweaty from all the walking he just did.

The guy nods with a polite smile. “Thank you.”

Dean places the apples and kale into one of the bags as it was handed over to him. “Are you new around here?” he asks.

“Yes. I just moved from Clinton Hill,” the guy answers, using another hand to take the keys out of his pocket. He proceeds to fit the key into the hole and opens the door, turning his head back to Dean. “Sorry. My name is Castiel, I’m your new neighbour,” he introduces, offering a hand to shake.

“I’m Dean,” Dean says back, shaking Castiel’s hand firmly. “I’m your new neighbour for twelve days.”

Castiel tilts his head. “Why, are you moving out?”

“No, I don’t live here. The place belongs to my brother and his wife, Sam and Jess. They’re on their honeymoon, I’m here to watch the cat. That kind of thing,” Dean explains.

Castiel smiles and nodded in understanding. “I see. That’s very nice of you.”

Dean shrugs and puts on a half-smile. “Yeah, well.”

“Do you want to come in?” Castiel offers, taking half a step inside.

“If that’s okay?”

“Of course it is.”

Castiel’s studio apartment is more long than big. It’s smaller than Sam and Jess’ place, but it still feels warm and cosy, despite the several packed boxes lying around the place. The walls are painted a soft brown and the floorboards are a shade lighter. The first thing anyone would see is the dining room slash kitchen next to the door on the right, and a half-moon cabinet accompanying the coat hanger on the left.

“You can put them on the round table,” Castiel mentions and turns to the right.

Dean follows behind him silently, looking around the place. He puts the grocery bag on the yellow round table as Castiel said and notices the cute napkin holder in the middle. He can’t see much of the living room since it was separated from the kitchen with a brick wall, but he can see the purplish-blue loveseat that probably faced the TV. On the other side’s a pretty window seat on another level, surrounded by shelves and a built-in bookcase on the same kind of brick wall that acts as a divider for the bedroom.

“Wow,” Dean utters, continuing to stare around the apartment. “I really need to get to know you better.”

Castiel smiles, taking a cereal box out of the bag. “I hope that’s not the only reason you want to get to know me.”

Dean looks back to him quickly. “No. No, no, no, of course not. I mean, you have a window seat, for crying out loud.” He gets distracted by the lovely setting of the kitchen, simple with cabinets underneath and over.

“It’d be nice to read there, yes,” Castiel remarks, taking out three more contents of his bag.

“Sorry,” Dean apologizes, turning back to the groceries. “It’s just- this place is great, I wonder why no one bought it earlier.”

“Maybe because the previous owner was stabbed to death here,” he announces casually.

Dean widens his eyes. “ _What?”_

Castiel only shrugs.

“You’re not even a little spooked by that?” Dean questions.

“I can’t find a reason to be afraid of ghosts, Dean,” Castiel says, looking into his empty bag. He pauses for a moment and sighs. “I forgot the milk again.”

“Not to scare you or anything, but- have you never heard of vengeful spirits?”

“Spirits who are vengeful, yes,” Castiel remarks.

Dean stares at him for longer and lightly chuckles as he took the pasta and a can of tuna from the bag.

“What’s so funny?” Castiel asks.

Dean shakes his head. “Nothing, nothing. Just uh-” His attention is quickly caught by a sudden presence, a shuffling noise behind the cabinets. Dean steps back from whatever it is and snaps his head to Castiel’s direction. “Did you hear that?”

“If you’re trying to scare me, that’s not very funny,” Castiel says, looking around the room carefully.

“No, I’m serious. I swear I heard something,” Dean affirms. He looks back to the cabinets as something shuffles behind it again.

Castiel follows his gaze and quickly turns his focus back to Dean with a look of realization on his face. “Oh- my apologies. That’s probably Audrey. I forget she does this sometimes,” he addresses, pacing towards the cabinet and peeps at what’s behind it.

“Audrey?”

“My cat,” Castiel clarifies, momentarily glancing at Dean. He makes a clicking noise with his tongue and reaches a hand out while bending his body forwards.

Within a couple of seconds, a small cat with a thick bluish-grey coat appears, nuzzling her head into Castiel’s palm. Her cheeks are a little chubby and she has a mouth that makes her look like she’s smiling all the time.

“She’s slightly wary of strangers at first, but once you treat her nicely she’ll trust you,” Castiel states. He crouches down to her and scratches her chin gently.

Dean isn’t used to being around cats other than Achilles, but he’s pretty sure Castiel’s hinting at him to pet Audrey, judging by the way he lifts his head at Dean and smiles.

_Do it for the cute guy._

Dean lowers himself to the floor and reaches a hand out as Castiel stops petting Audrey. Her eyes open wide as she notices Dean’s hand reaching towards her, making her duck her head away slightly. Castiel reassures her that it was okay with a scratch to her ears, and Dean lands his hand on her soft head. Audrey relaxes and purrs, moving her body against Dean’s palm.

It makes Dean smile, since she’s pretty quiet compared to Achilles. Dean kind of loves that squirrel looking cat, but he could do with less jumpiness and mewing sometimes. Audrey gives him a calm feeling as she lays her eyes on Dean, no matter how big and strikingly golden her eyes are.

 “She’s nice,” Dean states.

Castiel gives him a tiny smile and stands up as Audrey turns her head to him expectantly. “She’s probably hungry, I better go feed her.”

Dean switches glances between Audrey and Castiel. “Oh- yeah, I should go too,” he mutters, getting up with a last pet for Audrey. “I’ve got some stuff to do and another cat to tolerate.”

“Of course. I’ll—” Castiel halts in his speech, gesturing to the door.

Dean nods and heads to the door, Castiel following behind him. Castiel holds the door in place as he stands at the doorstep. “Um, thank you again. For the groceries earlier.”

Dean smiles and takes his duffel bag that was on the floor earlier. “No problem. It was nice meeting you.”

“You too, Dean,” Castiel says, giving him a last smile before closing the door.

“Yeah.”

Dean doesn’t realize he’s smiling and walking backwards the whole time until his elbow hits the door frame of Sam and Jess’ apartment. He sighs and enters, locking the door behind him. Achilles is waiting for him by the sofa, big eyes keeping watch on him.

Achilles meows, and Dean figures it’s time to feed him again.

 

+++

 

All he did was go to the vending machine by the end of the hall. Of course, he decided it was a good time to leave the door halfway open when he was gone. _Of fucking course, Winchester. Sam and Jess are gonna come back, and Jess is gonna stab you seventeen times for losing the cat, and Sam is gonna stab you another six for making his wife upset._

He runs out the door and quickly scans the hallway. No Achilles running about, but Castiel’s door is half open as well.

Dean knocks twice and steps in further, spotting Castiel by the window seat. “Hey, sorry to bother, but is there any chance you’ve seen—”

He doesn’t need to finish his sentence. Achilles pops his head up from Castiel’s lap and meows. Dean sighs of relief.

“I believe this is your cat?” Castiel questions, looking down at the golden ball of fur.

“Yeah, I left the door open when I went to get some coke, sorry. And so you’ve met Achilles,” Dean says. He walks towards where Castiel sat.

Castiel grins and scratches the back of Achilles’ head. “Achilles?”

“Yeah. Sam and Jess are like, huge mythology geeks,” Dean makes known.

“Well, he does suit his name,” Castiel says, petting the base of Achilles’ whiskers. “Not just in his looks.”

At that moment, Achilles jumps off Castiel’s lap to the open space in front of the window seat. Audrey walks by Dean and sits by his shoe, staring at how Achilles proceeds to scratch one of the boxes.

Castiel is observing the two cats with a content smile on his face. Dean goes and sits next to him, hoping it wasn’t pushing any boundaries. Castiel doesn’t seem bothered by it.

“So uh, what breed is she?” Dean asks. If there’s anything to talk about, it would obviously be cats.

“Chartreux,” Castiel answers. “A friend gave her to me as a gift, actually. The chartreux’s a rare breed around here.”

“Huh. What is that, French?” Dean asks.

Castiel nods. “I’ve always wanted one of them. My grandparents had two at home and I got to play with them a few times as a child. If I had a bigger space, I’d definitely adopt a few more cats, though.”

They both watch as the cats approach each other. Achilles is gold, Audrey is silver. It’s fun to see two completely different looking cats interact. Soon before anything else, the two of them lift paws at each other and start to play. Audrey is smaller in size and more timid, but she doesn’t need to move that much to defend herself.

“Jess found Achilles at the bottom of the stairs on the first floor when he was a kitten,” Dean says. Castiel turns to face him, listening attentively. “He had a collar on, and there was a tag tied to it that said _‘Take it. I don’t want it.’_ And they took him in,” Dean adds.

“I can’t believe someone would just leave him like that,” Castiel comments.

“Yeah. He’s perfect for them, though,” Dean says, staring at the way Achilles raises himself on his hind legs, towering over Audrey with a comically open mouth.

Castiel leans forward as he views them, resting his folded arms on his lap. He watches the two cats pounce and chase each other around.

“I mean, Sam’s always been more of a dog person. Jess too,” Dean goes on. “But I’m pretty sure Achilles is the closest a cat could be to a dog.”

“That’s true. American Curls are known to be very dog-like and playful throughout their lives,” Castiel states.

Dean hums, not really knowing the cat fact. “What’d you do, watch Animal Planet?”

Castiel smiles, shaking his head. “Not most of it, no.”

Achilles jumps back to the step of the window seat, with Audrey staring from below. Dean realizes he wasn’t exactly invited to Castiel’s apartment in the first place and it’s probably the appropriate time to leave.

“So uh, I better get going. Really sorry we interrupted you,” Dean says as he gets up from the window seat.

“It’s fine, there was hardly anything to interrupt anyway.”

Dean picks up Achilles carefully, making sure to support his hind legs. Achilles is used to being carried, so there isn’t any problem to that.

Audrey follows Castiel’s feet as he shows Dean out. Dean smiles at her as she keeps her eyes on him, or Achilles, he doesn’t care. “I’ll see you around?” he says to Castiel at the doorstep.

“See you around,” Castiel replies.

Dean turns and enters Sam and Jess’ apartment with a warm smile stuck on his face.

“Achilles, it’s a beautiful day.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**September 4 th, Monday**

Castiel wakes up to a small nudge to his back. He knows what is expected; Audrey jumped onto his bed and curled up next to him. He frowns at the dryness of his mouth and yawns, rubbing his sleepy eyes. Audrey is purring, wanting to be petted anytime soon.

Castiel checks the time and decides it’s way too early to get up or deal with his cat. It’s also Labor Day, his last day of freedom before he has to start earning for a living again, so he’s definitely going to sleep in that day. He shuts his eyes and lays on his back, only to feel Audrey climb onto his chest.

“No,” Castiel groans. He lifts Audrey off and puts her behind his back as he lays on his side again.

Within three seconds, Audrey makes it over in front of Castiel and nudges his shoulder with her head. Castiel sighs and lets her continue, knowing she’ll eventually stop. Audrey gives up and nuzzles into Castiel’s chest, letting her owner sleep in peace.

“Good girl.”

 

+++

 

Castiel feeds Audrey after he gets another hour of sleep. He gets out a box of cereal for breakfast, since frying or flipping anything feels like a thing he isn’t fit to do at this time.

He grumbles to himself as he opens the fridge to still see no milk. As he rests his forehead against the fridge, Castiel wonders if the walk to the grocery store is worth it.

 _No, no, no. No more procrastinating_ , he thinks. He doesn’t care much of how he’s presented. If people are going to see him buy a carton of milk, wearing a Star Wars t-shirt and pajama pants, so be it.

He grabs some money and walks out the door. In front of him is Dean bending in a robe, collecting the daily paper at his doorstep. _Dean, very cute neighbour for twelve days._

“Good morning,” Castiel greets.

Dean looks up with those pretty green eyes that Castiel first saw in him, but today those eyes are behind a pair of glasses with black frames.

Castiel smiles. They remind him of Clark Kent, and Castiel would have Dean replace him any day.

“Mornin’, Cas.”

“You’re wearing glasses,” Castiel remarks. He almost laughs at the way Dean throws one hand quickly to the rim to check.

“I normally wear contacts, but I couldn’t be more bothered today.”

“You look good in them,” Castiel blurts out. “Both, I mean. Contacts, glasses.” _Stop talking, stop talking._ “Whatever else you have.”

Dean chuckles, folding up the paper. “Uh, I- thanks,” he stammers. He pauses and looks at Castiel’s attire. “So uh, you going somewhere special at… 8.30 in the morning?”

Castiel sighs. “I’m gonna go get milk.”

“Right. Yeah, you do that,” Dean says.

Castiel waves an awkward hand goodbye and walks to make his turn.

“Hey, wait!” Dean’s voice calls to him.

Castiel turns back. “Yes?”

Dean fiddles his hands with the paper. “Uh, I was wondering…”

Castiel takes a few steps closer to Dean when he doesn’t go on with his sentence.

“Wondering…?”

“If you’d like to, uh…” Dean looks too nervous for this to be a general thing. Castiel silently hopes it wasn’t.

“If I’d like to…”

“If you’d like to let me help you unpack,” Dean finishes.

Castiel stands there like an idiot for two seconds.

“If I’d like to, let you, help me unpack?” he questions, making sure he heard it right.

“Yes. Exactly,” Dean replies.

 _Close enough._ Castiel smiles. “Of course, I’d like that.”

“Great. Now, I gotta go feed Achilles. Have fun with your milk,” Dean sputters.

Castiel doesn’t have time to count to three when Dean opens and shuts the door quickly. The thought that he has an unpacking date with Dean made him want to procrastinate even more.

 

+++

 

Castiel is waiting. Dean and he never arranged a time for their unpacking date, but it’s already closing in to four in the afternoon. Castiel sits by a full box of books as he watches TV, flicking through channels in boredom. He supposes it won’t be too bad if he just goes across the hall and asks. Then he wonders if Dean is actually keen on helping him unpack when it’s Labor Day.

Three knocks on the door catches Castiel’s attention. Castiel goes for the door in no time, taking a breath as he swings it open.

Dean isn’t alone in front of him. Achilles perches proudly on his shoulder. Castiel smiles as he notices the uncomfortable look on Dean’s face.

“You don’t mind, do you? Please get him off me,” Dean utters.

Castiel reaches for Achilles slowly, petting him on the chin first. He raises his arm for Achilles to walk on and sit by his shoulder. Castiel lays a hand on his front paw.

“He seems quiet today,” Castiel points out.

Dean raises an eyebrow. “He climbed his way up me.”

Castiel closes the door as Dean walks in. He makes his way to Audrey in the kitchen and bends down, letting Achilles jump to the floor.

“So, where do you wanna start?” Dean asks.

Castiel looks around for a box and shows it to Dean. “Mugs and glasses?”

“Okay.”

Castiel only met Dean the day before, and there they are, in the kitchen, cooperating and unpacking mugs and glasses. Dean sits at the round table with the box on top and removes the bubble wrap of each mug and glass for Castiel to place at their respective spots.

“So Cas, do you work around here?” Dean asks, finally starting a conversation.

“Yes. I teach high school chemistry,” Castiel answers, taking a wine glass from Dean.

Dean pauses in unwrapping for a second. “Get out of here.”

“What?”

“Nothing, I just didn’t see you as a teaching type,” Dean remarks, smiling as he hands another mug to Castiel.

Castiel snickers. “What type do I look like, then?”

Dean shrugs. “I don’t know. You seem more like a- tax accountant, maybe?”

“I’m not even in my work clothes, so you can’t just _tell_ what I do for a living,” Castiel points out.

“I don’t know, you look like a guy who deals with lots of numbers,” Dean says.

“And chemistry teachers don’t do that?” Castiel deadpans.

“Okay, fine,” Dean mutters, looking down on himself. “ _This_ is basically what I wear to work, or close enough. What do I look like I do?”

Castiel thinks as he observes Dean. He’s only wearing a Henley and sweatpants.

“Um, you… own a store down the road and can wear whatever you want?” Castiel guesses.

Dean shakes his head, smirking. He hands over another mug to Castiel.

Castiel places the mug quickly. “Give me a hint.”

“Well…” Dean thinks for a moment, not losing the smirk on his face. “You and I have something in common, technically.”

Castiel furrows his eyebrows. “Teacher?”

“Technically, yeah,” Dean says.

Castiel takes a seat and puts a hand to his chin, observing Dean again. “Something to do with art.”

“Not the drawing and painting kind,” Dean states. “Okay wait, maybe I look a little nerdy with these on.” He takes off his glasses and raised his eyebrows.

“Well- when you do it like that, I’d say modelling,” Castiel blurts.

Dean chortles. “Sweatpants modelling teacher, sure. C’mon Cas, think.”

Castiel thinks about the arts. Singing? _That would be nice, but Dean didn’t look it._ Acting? _No._ Dancing?

Dancing.

_Oh._

“Are you a dance teacher?” Castiel finally guesses.

Dean beams and snaps his fingers, pointing a finger gun. “There you go.”

“What kind of dance?” Castiel asks.

“Ballet and contemporary, mostly,” Dean says.

Castiel nearly freezes. _Ballet and contemporary._

“Oh.”

He imagines it already. Dean being gentle and delicate in his movements, swaying and spinning and—

“You’re not one of those science guys who look down on the arts, are you?” Dean asks, snapping Cas away from his daydreaming.

“No- no, of course not,” Castiel assures. “I appreciate the arts very much. In fact my brother’s a-” He stopped there, hanging his mouth open. _No, no, no._

Dean curiously looked at him, blinking a few times. “Your brother’s a what?”

Castiel shook his head. “Never mind.”

“What’s your last name again?”

“Novak,” Castiel replied. “Why?”

Dean stays quiet, wandering his eyes upwards. “Novak… where have I heard that before?”

“Could be anywhere. It’s a common last name,” Castiel quickly says.

Dean looks at him suspiciously, lifting a corner of his mouth. “Really?”

“You’ve been here helping me pack and I haven’t even offered you a drink,” Castiel notifies, ignoring Dean’s remark. He makes a few steps to the fridge and opens it to the only beverage he can find. “Is apple juice in a can alright? Because that’s all I have.”

“That’s- that’s fine, yeah. Didn’t you just go grocery shopping yesterday?”

“Milk wasn’t the only thing I forgot,” Castiel says back. He hands over the can to Dean and gestures to the living room. “Do you want to help me with the books?”

Dean laughs. “I’m fine with helping, yeah. I’m just wondering who your secret famous brother is.”

Castiel smiles and opens his own can of apple juice. “Not that famous.”

Dean and Castiel then push the heavy box of books to where the bookcase is together.

“Damn it Cas, what do you have in here?” Dean grunts.

“A couple of dictionaries. Chemistry reference books. Books for school. The rest is fiction,” Castiel lists.

“Please don’t tell me you arrange all of that by colour.”

“Just the fiction,” Castiel says.

When they get close enough they decide to just push the box with their feet.

“Can I ask you a question?” Dean asks, shoving the box one last time.

“Yes.” Castiel sits on the floor cross-legged next to the box and in front of the bookshelf.

Dean does the same, opening the cover of the box. “Why teach at a high school when you could do other things?” he asks. “Like- teach in a university or blow up stuff in the lab.”

Castiel lays his eyes on the Chemistry textbook on top. “Well, I’d need a doctoral degree to be a professor, which I’d be willing to do. I could be a research scientist or a chemical engineer. It’s just that I don’t really want to for now.”

“For now?”

“Blowing up stuff for research does sound fun,” Castiel jokes, adding a smile as he places the textbook aside. “Maybe I’d do all that one day, but I enjoy teaching. I’m given the chance to inspire young minds. It also gives me a chance to see what high school is like.”

Dean looks at him even more curiously then. “You mean— you were home-schooled?”

Castiel nods, avoiding Dean’s gaze as he picks up another reference book and places it on the bottom shelf. “It started before middle school.”

“That must’ve sucked,” Dean says. “Sorry, I mean- did it?”

Castiel didn’t like the topic at all, but he wasn’t going to throw a fit at Dean for asking.

“It was okay,” he lies, shrugging his shoulders. He can tell Dean doesn’t believe him that much. “I mean, I see it every day now. How was high school for you?”

Dean nearly pauses as he reaches out for a book. “I was a kid in glasses who did ballet, couldn’t be more popular.”

­Castiel decides by the look on Dean’s face, that if Castiel wasn’t talking about his job, high school wasn’t a subject to bring forth again.

“Do you teach ballet to kids?” Castiel asks instead.

“Kids, but not little kids. That job goes to Jo, the other instructor. I teach high-schoolers, sometimes college kids on break if they get bored,” Dean says as he took out the second dictionary and places it at the end of the bottom shelf.

“Are you close with them?”

Dean smiles. “I guess I could call them my second family. They kind of come and go, though.”

“Hm. I’m pretty sure my students hate me, judging by the way some of them act in the lab and actually want me to suffer,” Castiel says. “Though I did get a lot of chocolates for Teacher’s Day.”

Achilles jumps onto the window seat area, almost hitting his head a little by the step. Audrey follows behind him, scurrying her way to the curtain. She starts scratching the curtain, a few seconds before actually climbing it.

“Audrey, _no_ ,” Castiel warns. He stands up and goes over to her quickly, reaching his hands out to grab her. Audrey sticks her claws in the curtain, making it hard for Castiel to let her go.

“Does she always do that?” Dean asks.

“She seems to like the curtains here more, yes.” Castiel finally gets her out and puts her down. Achilles meows, propping over to Dean and sits on his lap.

“Hey fella,” Dean greets with a pet on the head. Audrey walks by them and makes her way out the door. Achilles looks up at Dean and meows again, and again, and again.

“Is he hungry?” Castiel asks.

Dean scratched the back of his ear, and Achilles meows another time. “Yeah, looks like. I’ll be right back—”

“Actually, he can have some of Audrey’s food. I was about to go feed her too,” Castiel says.

“Oh. Sure, just uh, he can be a little fussy.”

“That’s not a problem.” Castiel clicks his tongue twice and lightly snaps his fingers in Achilles’ direction. Achilles immediately jumps off of Dean and follows Castiel’s fingers.

Dean stares at him with wide eyes. “Dude, are you like a Cat Whisperer or something?”

“The one and only.”

 

+++

 

Dean has helped Castiel arrange most of the fiction books to his bookcase. They call it a break and order pizza, as to what Dean suggested. Castiel’s surprised Dean even decided to stay that long. They don’t talk much while they worked, but it was easy and comfortable in the silence, and Dean quickly understands Castiel’s way of arranging.

Castiel goes to the door and comes back to the living room with two regular pizzas. “Hey, you paid for both?” Dean asks.

Castiel nods. Dean rolls his eyes and sighs. “Fine, but I’m paying next time.”

“Next time?” Castiel smirks.

Dean blushes and ignores what he said. “So uh, where are you actually from, Cas?”

“That’s…” Castiel places the pizzas on the table and sits next to Dean on the couch. “A complicated question.”

“Humour me.”

Castiel smiles. There’s no harm in telling Dean, but he still hesitated. He clears his throat.

“I was born in Boston, Massachusetts, and then my family moved to Pontiac, Illinois when I was two. I grew up there,” Castiel explains, opening the boxes of pizza. “Then I moved to Los Angeles with my brother after I turned eighteen and graduated high school.”

“What’d you do there?” Dean asks, taking a slice of pizza with anchovies.

Castiel takes a slice with barbeque chicken and shrugs.

“Disneyland was nice.”

Dean laughs. “Must’ve been. I mean, you went to college there?”

“Yes. Took four years to get a Bachelor’s. Got a teaching certificate somewhere after that,” Castiel goes on. He isn’t so used to talking this long to a stranger. Scratch that, Dean isn’t a stranger, but he’s only known him for two days. “What about you?” he asks instead.

“You’re not done yet. Where’d you go from Los Angeles?”

Castiel sighs. “Back to Boston. Stayed three years teaching Science in middle school.”

“Was your brother with you?” Dean asks.

“No, he had to go somewhere else. He travels up to months, sometimes.”

Dean keeps looking at him, furrowing his eyebrows. “Who the hell is your brother, man?”

Castiel shakes his head with an innocent smile as he takes another bite of his pizza.

“Fine.” Dean shrugs and goes on, “So why’d you leave Boston?”

“It didn’t feel very… right. I felt like I didn’t know anyone there, and I don’t leave the best first impression for most people,” Castiel says.

“Well, my first impression of you was, ‘Man, this guy can’t even hold a couple of grocery bags right’.”

Castiel grins. “Fair enough. Unfortunately, I’m not so lucky with other people.” He leans forward for another pizza. “And then I moved to Clinton Hill, stayed with a college friend for a year. Now I’m here.” He lifts his eyes as he takes another bite to see Dean staring intently at him.

“You’re an interesting person, you know that?” Dean says.

Castiel shakes his head. “If you’re saying that about _me_ , then I’ll probably have to say, so are you.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “C’mon. You don’t know anything about me besides the dance thing.”

Castiel puts his feet up on the couch and sits cross-legged, showing him a soft smile.

“Then tell me more.”

Castiel learns that evening that Dean is 29 years old and his last name is Winchester. He was born in Lawrence, Kansas and he stayed there until he was nine. His family moved to Long Island and then he went to college in Brooklyn. His own apartment isn’t far, but much closer to the studio he works at. Dean proceeds to talk about Sam and Jess; how they met in the first year of college and just finished law school together. Right after that they decided to get married.

“See? Nothing much to know.” Dean regards him with a smile and brushed the remnants off his hands into the box.

“I don’t suppose that’s true,” Castiel says. “And if you’re not too tired, would you mind helping me out later filling up the bookcase?”

“Sure. Can I use your bathroom though?” Dean asks.

Castiel nods and gestures to the bedroom. “The blue door next to the closet.”

“Thanks.” Dean gets up and leaves while Castiel walks over to the boxes at the bookcase. There’s a box filled with the usual décor; souvenirs from friends, paintings, the small kinds of plates and pots that people used for display. Then in a separate open box there are the few potted plants that Castiel bought for a reason he didn’t know. He isn’t sure if any of that décor was fit for his bookcase at all.

He takes a step back to see how the books are placed. So far half is filled up, according to colour, but it didn’t look as satisfying as he thought it’d be. He holds a potted plant in his hands and stares back at the bookcase, wondering where it could match. He holds another plant and tries to picture it at the middle, then at the top.

“Cas?”

Dean has returned and Castiel is holding up two pots, pensively glowering at the tall bookcase in front of him.

“I have no idea what I’m doing with this,” Castiel confesses.

“What?” Dean makes his way over and stands next to Castiel, examining the bookcase together. “Okay, maybe we could do one row at a time. And uh, arrange a few things here…” Dean tilts his head, switching glances between the top corners. “Two plants could go up there. You got any identical or similar looking ones?”

Castiel speculates the wide box beside him and picks a couple of jade plants that looked the right enough size, holding them up. “Are these okay?”

Dean eyes them and nods. “Yeah. Those fit perfectly. I was thinking of making them stand on a couple of pale, light-coloured books, preferably with a hard cover.”

“You think very fast,” Castiel points out, placing the plants down for a while.

“Nah, just a thing I got from my mom,” Dean says. “But thanks. It’s nice hearing that from a chemist.”

Castiel smiles at that, and then gets to work. Dean suggests things to put in each space, methods of arranging the books, and colours that went well together. After an hour of _“A couple of shoeboxes here”,_ _“Maybe you could put a painting there, or there”_ and _“You’ve got a hell of a lot of souvenirs, Cas”_ , Dean and Castiel eventually fill up the whole bookcase, with the exception of one box of space at the right corner of the second row from the bottom. Of course, they only manage to get this done with Audrey and Achilles sleeping in the kitchen the whole time.

“No books left?” Dean asks again.

Castiel shakes his head. “Only the ones I need for work. I plan to just keep them on my desk.”

“Well, if you put another big plant, it’ll just look out of place. The colours won’t go right either,” Dean says. He steps back and views the whole thing again. “What about…”

Castiel lets him take his time to finish his sentence. Dean is in focus, stitching his eyebrows together as he squints at that particular space.

“Photo albums?” Dean finally asks. “With one of those little topiaries at the side.”

“That would look nice,” Castiel agrees. He mutters a quick “Hold on” and goes over behind the brick wall to his bedside drawer where the box of photo albums are kept. He takes the three bundled up albums, coloured in dark blue, red and brown, and places it on the empty box of space as he sits in front of the bookcase.

Dean is in front of him in a matter of seconds on the opposite side, with a mini topiary ready in hand. Castiel places the albums vertically, facing the spines to the living room. His hand merely brushes with Dean’s as Dean adjusts the topiary, and Castiel’s glad neither of them quickly pull away. Instead, Dean shows him a tiny smile and a blush, ducking his head down like a shy ten year old boy.

Castiel almost forgets that Dean is someone he just met. It feels naturally domestic with him, just unpacking and arranging and talking as if they were already close friends. He has no idea how long the two of them were gonna keep playing around before one of them made the first move.

Dean sets his head back and pouts. “It looks a little lonely,” he utters. He stretches out for the box of plants and picks out another topiary, settling it next to the first one. “There we go.”

Castiel gets up and walks back to Dean’s side. Their elbows nudge as they admire the sight of the filled up bookcase, another small touch Castiel appreciated that day.

“It looks amazing,” Castiel utters, facing Dean with a beam. “Thank you.”

Dean waves a casual hand, half-smiling at his own work. “No big deal, really.”

A low meow comes from the kitchen. Audrey has her grumpy face on, probably from just waking up. Achilles scrambles in, running past Audrey as he heads for the bedroom. Audrey turns her head and slowly follows.

“Cats are weird,” Dean says.

“How’s it been taking care of Achilles so far?” Castiel asks.

Dean shrugs. “Not as hard as I thought it’d be. I just need to tolerate his constant jumping around more.”

Castiel wants anything but cats to talk about with Dean. He just nods and crosses his arms, glancing back at the bookcase again.

“Anyway, it’s getting late. I better get going,” Dean brings up, checking his watch.

“Oh. Yes, I have to prepare for work tomorrow anyway,” Castiel says.

Dean smirks. “Good luck on that. I don’t have another class till Tuesday.”

“That’s tomorrow,” Castiel mentions.

“Ugh, right.” Dean starts heading towards the door, shooting a shy smile at Castiel. “If you need anything, I’ll be across the hall.”

Castiel smiles back, letting him go all the way to the door.

“Dean, aren’t you forgetting something?”

It takes a while for Dean to register what Castiel means. “Oh!” Dean comes jogging his way back and stops at the living room. “Achilles!” he calls out. “Do cats respond to their names that easily?”

“I’ll go get him.”

Dean is out with Achilles not long later. He flashes Castiel another smile before he leaves, wishing him a good night. That smile sticks with him for the night.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**5 th September, Tuesday**

Dean is definitely considering it.

But no, no, no, _no._ He has way better things to do than stand in front of a freaking _peep hole_ like a _creep,_ waiting for a certain guy to come back from work. He fights against the decision several times, even makes it to the door once, and goes back. Castiel is just a guy, who just so happens to be cute, and nice, and smart, and a little weird. Dean barely knows him, and he probably wasn’t _that_ interested in him anyway. He just wonders why it was so difficult to ask the guy out.

 _“If you’d like to let me help you unpack,”_ He said. It could’ve so easily been: _“If you’d like to go out for dinner some time. No? Alright, goodbye now.”_

Dean didn’t mind helping Castiel unpack his stuff, though and within a few hours, Castiel already knew stuff about him that Dean isn’t keen on sharing with people right off the bat. There’s the dance thing; something Castiel didn’t bat an eyelash at or give him a strange look for. Dean’s more used to people going, “You _teach_ dance? After years of hard work?” or, “Ballet. That’s cute!”

Instead, Castiel wanted to know more about it, and Dean didn’t share his entire experience of dance or anything, but it still makes his heart feel a tad lighter.

Dean checks his watch and makes his way to the door again, telling himself there’s no harm in checking on the guy and asking how his day was, or possibly if he’s free this weekend. Peeping through the hole just to see the door across the empty hall is no use.

Dean is about to reach for the door knob just as he hears footsteps gather on the other side with a jingle of keys. He quickly squints an eye in front of the peep hole, already hating himself for doing such a thing.

Castiel only just got back from work, and it’s already a quarter to five o’clock. As if he could actually sense Dean staring at him, he turns his head to the opposite door and almost steps forward. Dean watches as Castiel sighs and makes his way into his own apartment.

At this moment, Achilles chooses to appear out of nowhere and meows right beside him. Dean jumps and accidentally bangs his shin to the door. It isn’t to the point where it hurts badly, but it still makes an obvious sound to the people on the other side.

“Damn it, Achilles!” Dean hisses, rubbing the spot he hit. The bang seemed to scare Achilles away as he hopped and ran back to the kitchen. Dean peeped back into the hole to see if Castiel noticed.

Castiel steps towards the door, staring at it in confusion. He even makes the effort to raise his hand to knock and then puts it back down to his side before walking back to his apartment. Dean steps away as he hears the door across close and sighs.

Someone probably won’t want to be bothered if they just got back from work, or if they decided against knocking on another person’s door. Dean will have to talk to him or possibly ask him out some other time.

Dean suddenly feels a vibration in his pocket with a melody of a xylophone that followed. He smiles as he checks the screen.

**_Jess_ **

**_would like FaceTime…_ **

He accepts the call and beams as he sees Jess’ face on the screen. They greet each other cheerfully as Dean makes his way back to the living room.

“You guys goin’ somewhere?” Dean asks, noticing she was all makeup-ready and dressed up.

_“Just came back from a long dinner, actually. It’s almost eleven. How’s my baby?”_

Dean teases, “I’m fine, Jessica, how are you?”

_“Achilles!”_

Dean laughs at her tone. “He’s great. He poops a lot, that’s one thing I know,” he answers. “But he’s actually pretty great to hang out with from time to time. Where’s Sam?”

Jess smiles at the news and turns her head to the door behind her. _“Still in the bathroom. He’s had a long day of some people mistaking him for some Disney actor.”_

“I’m not surprised. You guys up to anything tomorrow?”

 _“Well, we’re finally going on that cruise Sam keeps going on about. It’s gonna be fun.”_ Before Dean can say anything else, the door behind Jess opens and Sam is making his way out. Jess turns to him and smiles back at the camera. _“I’ll hand you over to Sam while I go wash up, okay?”_

“Alright,” Dean says back. Achilles jumps on the couch with him as Sam walks closer to the phone. “Hey, Achilles is here.”

Jess turns back to the camera, grinning as she watches Achilles sniff Dean’s phone. Achilles then looks at the screen with an alarmed expression, probably thinking his owner is somehow stuck inside the thin machine.

Dean hears Jess laugh through the speakers and tries to calm Achilles down onto his lap. Jess passes the phone to Sam, muttering something along the lines _of “He’s better than I thought_ ” before walking to the bathroom.

“Hey,” Dean greets Sam, in which he received a wave in return.

 _“Hey. How’s the apartment?”_ Sam asks. _“You’re not pretending everything’s fine just for Jess, are you?”_

Dean shakes his head, scratches Achilles by the ears. “Nah, it’s all good. I even made a friend here.”

Sam looks curiously at him. _“Who?”_

“Your new neighbour across the hall. He’s uh… he’s nice,” Dean sputters.

_“Oh! Yeah, I think I heard him move in and out a couple of times, but we never had a chance to meet. What’s his name?”_

Dean sighs in a way he didn’t intend to. “Castiel,” He says the name as if he was on the topic of sweet ice cream. “He’s a chemistry teacher.”

Sam snorts at him. _“How’d you get to know him so quick? I’ve never even seen his face.”_

“I don’t know. I was just— helping him carry his groceries, helping him unpack. He’s cool. Kind of weird, but in a cute way. Unintentionally funny. He’s a cool guy, pretty cool. Kind of funny,” Dean splutters.

_“Oh. Did you ask him out?”_

“Nope, why would I do that?” Dean asks.

Sam pulls a confused face. _“You seem to kind of like him.”_

“I’ve only known him for two days, Sammy!”

_“You ask people out when you know them for five minutes.”_

Dean’s the one who pulls a face this time. “That’s not true!”

_“Oh no, Dean. It looks like you have a crush.”_

Dean remains silent and thinks about it. He grunts, “But I don’t want a crush!”

Sam beams at him with a shrug. _“Seems a little too late.”_ Jess appears next to Sam a second later. Dean didn’t even notice her exiting the bathroom. _“Dean has a crush?”_ she asks.

“Unfortunately,” Dean grumbles. Sam explains to her that it’s their new neighbor, and Jess hangs her mouth open.

 _“Oh- does he have like dark hair that’s almost out of control?”_ Jess asks.

“Yeah, that’s probably him,” Dean guesses.

Jess continued grinning away. _“I might have seen him from a distance once. I think he was feeding a bunch of stray dogs. He’s cute!”_ Sam raises his eyebrows and nods. _“Well, if Jess approves, I approve.”_

Dean rolls his eyes at them. “You two are killing me.”

 _“Just saying, Dean. You better ask him out before we come back and ask him for you.”_ Sam beams at Jess’ comment and says, _“You know what would be great? If Dean moved in with him and lived across the hall from us.”_

_“And we see him every day? No thank you.”_

_“Yeah, you have a point.”_

Dean can’t bear any of this any longer. “Yup- that’s enough of Sam and Jess for today. I gotta get to class, losers. Have fun on your _romantic_ cruise,” he interjects.

_“Bye Dean!”_

Dean waves and mutters a goodbye before ending the call. Sam and Jess are ridiculous. They haven’t even met Cas and they’re already jumping to conclusions. His tiny crush will go away eventually, he just needs some time to figure out something off about him. Dean shakes every thought of Castiel away and gets ready for work, leaving a small portion of cat food for Achilles in case he got hungry early.

He’s out the door in a few minutes and maybe, just maybe, he shoots a couple of glances at Castiel’s door. As Dean’s about to take the turn out, a door behind him clicks open, making Dean bite his lip to suppress a smile. He turns around casually, spotting Castiel by his own door. He’s still in his work clothes, but with the tie he wore earlier taken off and a couple of buttons loose. Castiel peers up at him and smiles shyly.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Hey. How was work today?” Dean asks.

Castiel shrugs. “It was fine. Busy, but fine. I was just going to…” He plays with the small pouch in his hands. “Uh, grab something from the vending machine.”

Dean nods. “Oh. Well, I was kind of heading to work myself.”

“Have fun then,” Castiel says.

“Yeah.”

With that, Dean turns back and wants to just let the tension go. He sighs softly as he thinks about what Sam and Jess kept saying to him.

“Are you busy tonight?” Dean suddenly asks, facing Castiel another time. God, he wants to slap himself. It’s Tuesday, Castiel just had his first day at work, _obviously_ he isn’t planning on going out.

Castiel locks his eyes on him, fidgeting with the pouch. “Why do you ask?”

_No reason, no reason at all. Just say it._

“No reason,” Dean manages to say. “I was just thinking of… doing some laundry downstairs,” he adds. Dean can easily run away and pretend this conversation never happened and never see Castiel again. Instead his feet stays glued to the spot as he thinks of what to say next.

“I do have a few lesson plans and future homework assignments to review tonight,” Castiel mentions. _Thank God_. “But I’ve been procrastinating on getting a heavy load of laundry done for days. Perhaps I could join you.”

Dean doesn’t realize he’s looking at the ground until he moves his head up. “Yeah, sounds great,” he agrees.

“How’s eight o’clock?” Castiel asks.

“Yeah, sounds great!” Dean repeats. He shoots Castiel another smile and heads out before anything else can happen.

On his way to work, he thinks about their upcoming “date”. What conversations he could bring forth, or whether he should try starting one at all. Maybe they could do their laundry and wait in silence until the whole thing was over. Dean liked talking to Cas though, so he guessed it wouldn’t be so bad as that.

He just needs some actual laundry to do.

 

+++

 

 

He meets Castiel at the door by eight like they said. Cas is holding a few books with today’s newspaper on top, while carrying a white laundry bag in the other hand. Dean smiles at him and gestures to the apartment with his thumb.

“Hey. I’m just gonna fill up Achilles’ water bowl and then we’ll go,” Dean says. “Wanna come in?”

Castiel nods at him as he enters Sam and Jess’ apartment, smiling contently while looking around. “This place is beautiful.”

“Yeah. My mom’s not done spoiling Sammy just yet, apparently,” Dean mentions as he walks to the kitchen. Achilles is already there, still indulging in his Friskies without a care to acknowledge Dean or Castiel’s presence.

“I can relate,” Castiel says back. He continues surveying the apartment, taking in the homey and large atmosphere.

Dean quickly fills Achilles’ water bowl. “Really?”

Castiel almost guiltily smiles. “My mother, no. But my brother bought the furniture for my place without my knowing.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“What?”

“One day you’re gonna tell me who this rich _and_ famous brother of yours is,” Dean says, standing up.

Castiel shrugs. “He’s not that famous, really."

“Yeah, sure. I mean, my mum’s been an interior designer for a long time so she gets these great discounts. Great enough for us, at least.” He goes back to the living room to get his own laundry bag.

“Is your own apartment the same?” Castiel asks, bending down to pet Achilles on the back shortly.

Small, cheap and not exactly cozy all the time, but his mom helped decorate the place to feel like home as well. It was what Dean could afford.

“A lil squishier, with noisy floorboards and a leaked ceiling every now and then, but yeah, it’s the same.” Dean gives him a sheepish smile and throws his laundry bag over his shoulder. “Ready to go?”

Castiel stares at him suspiciously, switching looks between Dean and the bag. “Why do you have so much laundry to do when you’ve only been here for… three days?”

“Uh…” Dean thinks quickly. “Sam and Jess. Pretty typical of them to forget to do their laundry and leave them here.”

It looks like it was hard to believe judging by the way Castiel still looked at Dean weirdly. Castiel smiles and nods anyway. “That’s very thoughtful of you.”

The walk to the laundry room in the basement is brisk and filled with small talk; Castiel asks how Dean’s day at work was and Dean tells him about how he had to deal with two of his most competitive students arguing endlessly throughout the whole class, and that he suspects some love-hate thing going on between the two.

They’re accompanied by two older ladies in the laundry room who smile at Dean and Castiel as they enter. They look like they’re just waiting for their clothes to dry, and Dean can’t hear what they’re whispering about, but they laugh a lot, reminding him of his own mother’s laugh. He realizes he hasn’t seen his mom in a while, so he mentally makes a note to visit her soon and maybe even bake her something. He’ll probably fail at making a pie as good as she does though.

“I thought basement laundry rooms would be more crowded,” Castiel says behind him. “With people arguing and stealing each other’s machines. That’s what I experienced in college, at least.”

Dean books the first two machines with his bag on top. “Yeah, that kind of thing used to go on around here a lot. I don’t know what happened, maybe everyone decided to buy their own machines or walk a few blocks to the laundromat instead. Either way, this place is better now.”

“I see.” Castiel puts his own stuff on top of the next two machines and starts to separate his lights and darks. Dean does his own sorting as well and tucks his printed t-shirts inside out. A sudden low growl comes from beside him in midst of loading the first machine.

Castiel is looking down at his stomach with a clenched jaw, and Dean can almost see the tint of pink slowly rising up to his cheeks.

“My apologies.”

“You didn’t have dinner?” Dean asks.

Castiel sighs, shakes his head and goes back to filling up the machine. “It’s fine, I’ll eat when I get back.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, I’ll be fine.”

Dean nods and goes back to his laundry, taking out his quarters to start the first machine. Another growl comes after Dean loads his darks, and Castiel mumbles an apology, slightly cringing at himself.

“Dude, go and eat something if you’re hungry. I’ll watch the machines,” Dean suggests, closing the lid.

“It’s fine,” Castiel says, giving him a shy smile. “Really, I’m not that hungry,” he reassures, putting in the detergent and enough quarters into the machine.

Dean sighs. “If you insist.” He goes back to the waiting area once he’s done loading the machines up, sitting back and realizing he didn’t bring anything with him other than his phone to keep him busy for the next thirty-two minutes.

Castiel joins him not much later. He sits down and holds the folded newspaper in his lap with a pencil in the other hand. Dean glides his eyes over at it, and just as he guessed, Castiel is doing the crossword.

“How do people actually finish these?” Castiel says aloud.

Dean peeks over the crossword himself and smiles. “Just do the easy things first, like… that one.” He points to _32) Freddy Krueger’s street_ and checks back to the three empty boxes that went across.

Castiel stitches his eyebrows together. “Who is Freddy Krueger?”

“You don’t know who Freddy— Nightmare on Elm Street? Dude’s got a burned face and wears a fedora, kills teenagers in their dreams,” Dean explains.

Castiel’s eyes get wider by the second. “I hope what you’re talking about isn’t based on a true story.”

Dean lightly chuckles. “Nah, just a movie. _Elm_ , that’s the answer.”

“Oh. I wasn’t allowed to watch horror movies as a child,” Castiel says, filling in the three boxes. “Or almost any movie, really.”

Dean raises his eyebrows at that. “Seriously? For how long?”

Castiel pauses and slightly shrugs, looking back to the crossword. He opens his mouth again to say something but is interrupted by his own stomach again.

“Excuse me,” Castiel quickly says.

“There’s a vending machine out that door. Wouldn’t kill you to get an energy bar,” Dean suggests.

Castiel sighs. “Alright. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He gets up and places the newspaper and pencil on his seat, taking his pouch of coins with him. “Would you like anything?”

“I’m good,” Dean replies.

Castiel nods and heads his way out, moving past the dryers and the elder ladies who are already folding their dried clothes. Dean watches him leave and flickers his eyes over at the crossword puzzle on the seat next to him. He used to love doing crosswords with Sam when they were kids; he’d usually ask Sam for the difficult answers and Sam would look them up.

Dean scans through the hints quickly. There seems to be a few fill in the blank answers, which are always a bonus, but the rest are pretty difficult to think of. 

Castiel appears in front of Dean while he’s busy digging his mind for the answers. He holds up two cups of coffee, not bothered by the fact that Dean just stole his crossword.

“How do you take it?” He asks.

Dean smiles. “Black.”

Castiel nods and hands him a cup, taking his seat next to Dean. “I thought so. Have you got any answers?”

“Just a few. I think I found one for you,” Dean says. He shows him _14) Positively charged ion,_ smirking as he watches Castiel’s reaction.

Castiel smiles. “Cation.”

Dean knew that, but it didn’t hurt to give the guy a chance.

Solving the crossword gets frustrating for Castiel within ten minutes. He shows a clear dislike for it and hates how he can’t think of any answers. Dean however, can’t help but be amused at Castiel’s grumpy side and answers many of them.

“Fine, I’ll give you this one,” Dean says, pointing towards a number.

_47) September birthstone_

“September— _sapphire._ I know it’s correct,” Castiel answers, a bit of enthusiasm in his eyes.

Dean grins and fills up the eight boxes. “When’s your birthday?” he asks curiously.

“September 18th.”

Dean looks up at him to stare into his eyes. “Makes sense.”

Castiel seemed to understand what Dean meant and blushes, smiling softly. “When’s yours?”

“January 24th.

Castiel’s eyebrows rise as he sips his coffee. “An Aquarius. Makes sense,” he simply states without elaborating.

Dean smiles anyway and goes back to digging his mind for answers, while Castiel takes out a notepad and starts jotting down a few things Dean didn’t see.

Slowly, Dean’s brain gets distracted by the mundane things Cas does next to him, whether it’s him flicking the pen in his hand and shaking his foot, or the way his face scrunches up as he scribbles a few lesson plans out and re-writes them. They’re alone already, with the two ladies gone with their folded clothes, and Dean wonders if it would be the right time to finally ask the guy out.

Dean decides against it quickly; whether Castiel rejects him or not, there’d be an awkward hour left of spending time with him in the laundry basement. It doesn’t feel right with the loud machines in the background either.

“How did you get into dancing, Dean?” Castiel suddenly asks, looking up from his notepad. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

Dean wonders what to answer with. “Uh, I don’t know, really. Pretty much how anyone gets into their hobby, career stuff.” _Smooth, Winchester._ “I mean, my mom said I started when I was three. Apparently, I tried to copy the pirouettes I saw on TV.”

“Pirouettes?”

“The move where you turn your body on your toes,” Dean easily defines, and Castiel understands quickly.

“That doesn’t sound easy,” Castiel says.

Dean smirks. “It isn’t. Took me a long ass time to get it right.”

“How many can you do?” Castiel asks.

Dean tries to remember the last time he broke his record. “Basic pirouettes- I’d say six, maybe seven? I don’t know, it’s been a while.” He mostly spends time teaching his kids how to clean their turns rather than actually performing it.

“That’s a lot harder than you’re making it sound, isn’t it?” Castiel asks.

His genuine interest makes Dean smile wide and blush a little. Lots of people would simply ask if he could do “many”, or ask if he could do it right there in front of them.

“You’re not gonna ask me to prove myself, are you?”

Castiel beams. “Of course not. I believe you.”

“Maybe one day I will though,” Dean teases. He doesn’t notice the amount of eye contact they’ve been keeping until Cas drops his head down and bites his smile away. Fucking hell, Dean’s screwed.

The machines start to slow down, making low noises that catch Dean and Cas’ attention.

“Has it already been half an hour?” Cas asks.

“Guess so.”

When Dean adds his clothes into the dryers, he hears a vibrating buzz come from the chair he sat in.  He sees his phone vibrating near the edge and goes to get it. An unsaved number flashes on the screen, making his stomach curl as he slides his thumb to answer.

“Hello?”

_“Dean! Hi, it’s Sharon. Sharon Moore.”_

Dean only recognizes the name after a second. “Oh, hey Sharon. What can I do for you?”            

 _“I just wanted to inform you that my husband and I don’t need any more of those dance classes. Our friends decided for professional dancers to perform at their wedding instead,”_ Sharon says with a sad sigh.

“Oh. How unfortunate,” Dean says, rolling his eyes.

 _“Yeah! Sorry for your wasted effort,”_ Sharon adds in a not-so-genuine tone.

“It’s fine, really. Uh, hope you have a great time at the wedding then,” Dean wishes, not knowing what else is there to discuss.

 _“Yeah. Have a good night!”_ Sharon ends the call with, not letting him respond.

Dean shakes his head and shoves his phone into his pocket. “Typical.”

“Are you okay?” Cas asks, still standing by the dryers.

Dean turns and starts walking back. “Yeah, just had a couple of clients cancel all classes. I don’t know whether to feel annoyed or happy.”

Cas arches an eyebrow. “Why would you be happy?”

“Let’s just say…” Dean thinks of a way to phrase his sentence. “Those two are the straightest of the straights I’ve ever met,” he says, looking at the floor, away from Cas. Dean has a very positive feeling Cas isn’t straight, otherwise he’ll be disappointed as hell, and he’d have to suffer through a week of awkward hello’s.

He sees Cas perk his head up and hears a breathy laugh come from him.

“I get what you mean. Entirely,” Cas counters. He puts in the last of his quarters for the dryer to start.

There’s some relief for Dean right there. He smiles and continues putting his clothes into the dryer.

“Yeah, they were just ridiculous. Kept asking me for threesome tips and if I knew anyone who’d put out,” Dean grumbles.

Cas visually cringes at that, shaking his head. “That’s horrible. It’s good you don’t have to see them again,” he remarks.

“I know. I could have used the extra money though,” Dean says as he starts putting in his coins. “I need new dance shoes.”

Cas softly smiles and chooses his settings. “What’s the uh, name of the academy you work at?”

“Oh. The _Brooklyn Angels_ Academy. I don’t know why we’re supposed to call ourselves _angels_ of all things, but.” Dean shrugs, closing the dryer.

Cas glances upwards, as if recalling something. “Brooklyn Angels. I think a couple of them are in my class. Krissy Chambers and Alex Jones?”

Dean recognizes those names immediately. “Yeah, some of the best in class.”

“I heard their team scored first in a championship this year,” Cas states. “Were you the one mentoring them?” he asks.

Dean nods and smiles at the memory of them winning. “Yeah, I was their coach for that. Tough month, good ending.”

Cas asks Dean more about dance while they wait for their clothes to dry. Dean’s never been this excited talking to someone about what he does, because the other person would usually never be responsive in the right manner for him to go on. Cas though, asks the right questions and listens attentively. It’s not a complicated or factual conversation either. Dean tells stories about the ballet classes he went to as a kid, how he broke some of his toes when practicing at home without his shoes, to which Cas smiles at.

“What, ten year old me yelling in pain and calling for my mom is enlightening to you?” Dean asks.

Cas shakes his head. “Of course not. It’s just nice to know how… passionate you are, and always were.”

Dean smiles and rubs at his neck nervously. “Yeah, I guess. It’s good I didn’t stop.” Cas cocks his head, expectant eyes telling him to explain more. Dean shrugs. “I nearly stopped when we moved to Long Island. It was a long time ago, my dad passed away in a car accident.”

Cas’ expression immediately softens. “I’m sorry, that’s horrible.”

“Yeah. I thought he wouldn’t want me to keep going on with ballet, but my mom convinced me otherwise,” Dean confesses.

Cas nods, letting a silence go on for a few moments. “I’m glad she did.”

Dean gulps and widens his eyes. “Yep, that went deep real quick. Okay, tell me about you. Anything,” he says.

“Anything?” Cas asks. He takes a moment to recall and grins, head facing down. “Alright. Before I was home-schooled, I took part in many extracurricular activities. One of them being science fairs, of course.” Dean leans in, giving his attention. “There were these two kids in my school. Not your stereotypical bullies, but still bullies nonetheless. They sabotaged a lot of projects at the science fair one year, including mine, and ended up winning. So… I did something as revenge. Something I’m not very proud of.”

Dean widens his eyes. “If you’re about to confess to a murder, I’m done listening,” he makes known.

“No, I didn’t murder anyone, but I might have…” He trails off and laughs halfway. “I planted a stink bomb in their lockers so that they’d smell rotten eggs for a whole two weeks,” Cas admits quickly.

“Wait- _no_ way you did that,” Dean responds, processing what Cas just said.

Cas’ grin grows wider. “I made it small and hid it behind their books. I took it out after three days and they still have _no_ idea why their lockers stank for so long.”

Dean laughs, bending his whole body forward. “Are you serious?”

“Nobody should mess with kids’ science projects. It’s just cruel,” Cas says with a light shake of the head, crossing his arms.

“Wow. Remind me to never piss you off.”

Cas turns his head to look at Dean. “Don’t worry, that was the only time I ever did a prank on anyone. I did feel bad for a while, but my brother assured me it could’ve been much worse.”

Dean smiles back at him and opens his mouth to ask about his brother until one of the dryers come to a stop.

“Time really does fly,” Cas says, checking his watch. In a couple of seconds another dryer slows down and stops as well. Dean must’ve been talking way too much about ballet. Cas doesn’t seem to mind though.

They both proceed to fold their dried clothes in silence. Dean manages to steal a glance at Cas when he’s not looking and notices how horribly Cas folds his clothes. Dean resists the urge to be an asshole and make fun of him for it. Perhaps another time.

“Hey,” Dean calls out as they reach their doorsteps. Cas looks up at him, tightening his grip on his laundry bag. “Thanks for the company. And listening to me ramble on about ballet,” Dean says.

“It was my pleasure. I’d be happy to hear you talk more. About anything really,” Cas utters, showing him a light smile. It’s silent and they end up just staring at each other for three seconds until he clears his throat. “Anyway, I should—” he points to his door, “Get back to teacher— teacher work. Good night Dean.”

“Good night!” Dean wishes just as Cas closes the door on him. He gets back to Sam and Jess’ place and sighs when Achilles plods towards him excitedly. “Hey buddy. What’chu been up to?”

Achilles purrs as Dean pets him and snuggles into Dean’s hand. Dean feels a beam spread wide on his face.

“Look at you, being all nice and friendly—” Dean halts as he notices an unpleasant scent in the room. He scrunches his face and glares at the innocent-looking cat. “Alright. Where the hell did you do it? Be honest with me.”

Achilles looks up at him and scurries away. Dean groans as he sees the puddle of urine by the TV in the living room. _And_ the scattered set of pens on the floor by a side table.

Dean opens up the list Jess gave him and searches for methods on how to emotionally cope with Achilles in general.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**7 th September, Thursday**

“Have fun in your meeting.”

The woman in front of Castiel sighs. “You keep saying that and it gets less fun each time,” she responds.

Castiel smiles at her sheepishly and pushes open the glass door. “Bye, Dorothy.”

“Castiel!”

Castiel turns back to Dorothy, eyebrows raised in question as she quickly paces towards him.

Dorothy shakes her head. “When are you inviting us over?” she asks, crossing her arms.

Castiel tries to think of a suitable date and when the apartment would be ready. He shrugs. “Uh…”

“I’m probably busy for most of the weekend,” Dorothy adds.

“Well-”

“I’ll make time for Saturday night, okay? I’ve got to go.” Dorothy looked at her watch and acknowledges Castiel once more with a smile before she hurries up the steps.

_And so it was Saturday night, then._

+++

 

The third day of work for Castiel wasn’t bad, but tiring to say the least. He did manage to get off early thanks to having no late classes or meetings, moreover his lesson plans were organized enough. Lying on the couch for a nice amount of time sounded heavenly.

He glances at the apartment across his for a moment, smiling as he remembers their time in the laundry room. Dean was interesting; He was knowledgeable and probably more talented than he made himself sound. Castiel wonders briefly if he’d be able to see Dean dance one day.

He was comfortable with Dean’s presence and it seemed like Dean was comfortable with his as well; Castiel hadn’t had that kind of connection with someone new in a while. There were always new students of course, but students stayed students and nothing more. It became a yearly routine with the new sophomores.

Within three days he’d gotten to know Dean is Kansas-born, a dancer, an Aquarius, and a great crossword puzzle solver as well as countless little things that he could appreciate. Castiel revealed a bit of himself as well, a bit _too_ much for someone who was just a neighbor for a few days.

A short vibration in his pocket distracts him from his thoughts, making Castiel realize he’s been standing in the same spot for ages. He quickly enters his apartment and pulls his phone out to see who texted him.

**_Charlie_ **

**_-Can’t wait for Saturday!_ **

Castiel smiles. He can’t wait to see his friend as well. He watches as Audrey stands, stretching from where she sat in her bed and dawdles her way towards Castiel.

“Hello Audrey,” Castiel greets, crouching down as she rubs her ears against his leg. “You’ve fed yourself, right?” he asks and looks at the automatic food dispenser with an empty bowl. Audrey purrs and climbs over his knee, immediately tapping his shoulder.

Castiel sighs. “Fine.” He makes a gesture with his fingers and clicks his tongue. Audrey balances herself and paws her way up Castiel’s shoulder. Her tail always tickles the nape of his neck, but he’d gotten used to the touch.

Another vibration comes from the phone in his hand and Castiel checks it.

**_Charlie_ **

**_-Literally. I’m coming over._ **

Castiel honestly isn’t surprised, yet he also thought he’d be able to get a good rest for the remainder of the day. God forever bless Charlie’s heart though, despite having to deal with her energy.

 ** _-Don’t you have a bakery to run?_** He replies.

Audrey purrs on his shoulder and nuzzles her head into Castiel’s. He makes his way to the kitchen table to make two identical coffees for him and Charlie. Three seconds later there’s a knock, and Castiel puts Audrey back down as he walks to the door.

In front of him is the expected Charlie Bradbury, holding up two bags full of pastries with a wide grin on her face.

“I _do_ have a bakery to run,” she says.

Castiel beams back at her and holds his arms out. Charlie moves into him quickly, wrapping her arms around him.

“Missed you, dork,” she mumbles and pulls away. “I brought donuts. And pie.”

“You better be making enough profit to do this.”

“Of course I am. C’mon, show me your new cave.” She leans out of his view and steps past him. Castiel watches as she surveys the whole place with slow steps, turning her head at the living room. “Wow. What’s Gabriel gonna get you next, a _butler_?” Charlie says, facing him immediately. “Seriously. I won’t be surprised.”

Castiel sheepishly smiles and shrugs. “How does it look?”

“It’s _perfect_ for you,” Charlie comments, still wandering her eyes around. Audrey hops off the chair in the kitchen and patters her way to Charlie. “Audrey!” Charlie crouches down to her level and scratches Audrey by the head.

“I’m ninety-percent done unpacking. The rest are just things for the bedroom,” Castiel says, picking up the bags of pastries from the floor.

“Yeah, I can see that. I’m glad you got that bookcase filled up so well though,” Charlie remarks.

Castiel glances at the bookcase with a blush creeping up his cheeks. “I had help.”

Charlie looks back at him in confusion as she stands up, carrying Audrey in her arms. “From who?”

“This guy— he lives across the hall. Temporarily. Dean, his name is Dean.”

“Oh. Is he… young?” Charlie asks.

Castiel furrows his eyebrows at her. “He’s a year younger than me, why?”

“Because pink’s a good color on your face, that’s why,” Charlie replies with a cheeky smile and a wink.

Castiel feels his face go hotter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Fine. We _don’t_ have to talk about your love life. But what we _can_ do…” Charlie’s eyes darts to the Xbox sat next to the television.

Castiel sighs. “It’s not set up yet. I don’t know how to.”

“And that is why _I’m_ here.”

Charlie has the Xbox 360 set up and the two of them are playing Call of Duty in no time. Well… Charlie is playing, Castiel is mostly just mashing buttons. 

“I still don’t understand the concept of this game,” Castiel says at their last round, defeated. He puts his controller aside and opens the box of glazed donuts on the table.

“There are _lots_ of things you don’t understand,” Charlie replies, changing the game to single player. She grabs a donut herself and fits half of it into her mouth, still controlling the game.

Audrey hops onto the couch and eyes Castiel’s donut, sniffing the air around it. Castiel puts it further out of her reach and relaxes her onto his lap.

“So tell me about this Dean guy,” Charlie brings up, biting the other half of her donut.

“I thought you didn’t want to talk about my love life,” Castiel replies.

Charlie keeps her eyes fixated on the screen as she plays. “No, _you_ didn’t wanna talk about your love life. _I, however,_ am irritatingly curious.”

Castiel shrugs and gives in. “He’s nice. I’ve only known him for three days.”

“Right. And yet you know how old he is,” Charlie responds.

“Yes. He’s also a dancer,” Castiel adds. “Ballet and contemporary.”

“Nice. Are you gonna ask him out?” Charlie asks, momentarily darting her eyes from the screen to him.

Castiel expected the question, but he still isn’t sure how to answer. “I’m not an expert at that kind of thing, you know that,” he says and takes a big bite of his own glazed donut, laying back comfortably.

“You’re not wrong. But if he seems interested, you could… I don’t know, _try_?”

“I guess I could,” Castiel decides. “But he’s only staying for another week until his brother comes back. Won’t it be awkward?”

“ _Awkward?_ ” Charlie questions as she starts rapidly hitting the buttons of the controller. “Only if he says no. Which is _not_ gonna happen.”

“How would you know? You’ve never even met him.”

Charlie shrugs. “I don’t know. I just- have a feeling.”

“That’s reliable,” Castiel sarcastically replies. “How are you and Dorothy? She seems busy,” he states, changing the subject.

Charlie hisses as her player suddenly gets injured badly. “Crap. I forgot I was gonna surprise her with dinner tonight,” she says. “But yeah, she’s loaded with all that principal stuff. More stressed than she looks.” She ends the game quickly and places her controller on the couch, getting up.

“Are you leaving already?” Castiel asks.

“Sorry bud.” Charlie smiles at him apologetically. “I’ll see you on Saturday. Maybe even tomorrow! I wanna meet this Dean guy.”

Castiel rolls his eyes with a light smile. “I beg of you not to skip work to meddle with my ‘love’ life.”

“I’m not _skipping_ , I’m just… finishing early,” Charlie claims. Her eyes suddenly lit up. “Do you think Dean’s home?”

“He’s— no,” Castiel warns.

“Are you gonna talk to him tonight?”

“I don’t— Charlie, don’t you have a dinner to make? Go.” Castiel turns her and motions her towards the door.

Charlie grunts. “Fine. But think about this guy, it’s so _rare_ to see you interested.”

“Whatever you say. Goodbye Charlie,” Castiel says as Charlie steps past the door.

“Promise me you’ll at least _try_ talking to him tonight. Start small,” Charlie insists.

Castiel hushes her and points at the opposite door where Dean could possibly be standing behind. Charlie widens her eyes and smiles guiltily. “Promise?” she whispers.

Castiel rolls his eyes and nods. “Fine. Now go.”

Charlie grins at him and salutes before taking off. “Love you!”

Castiel thinks about what she said. Was Dean even considered a friend? Did Dean consider _himself_  Cas’ friend? Would it be weird if Castiel went over and tried talking to him tonight?

He closes the door and spots Audrey by the kitchen sink, drinking the water straight from the tap. “You get smarter by the day,” he says, making his way to the sink. He snaps a picture of her and smiles as she flinches away from the water hitting her face.

His eyes flicker to the counter where the other bag Charlie brought in with her was. He looks into the bag to see two medium-sized pies; pecan and raspberry. He loves Charlie’s baking with all his heart and he’d definitely finish everything up if he could, but the conversation with her replays in his mind. _Start small._

At nine o’clock after Audrey was fed and Castiel is settled with an ordinary dinner, he takes the pecan pie and heads for the door. Audrey caught up to him quick, moving with each step Castiel took. There was no way Castiel is locking her in at the rate she was going. He sighs and tilts his leg, motioning her upwards with a click of the tongue. She climbs up his right shoulder and perches on it, keeping her grip on him tight.

As soon as Audrey is steady he knocks on the door across his and holds the pie in front of him. Dean swings the door open in a few moments with a cat sat on his shoulder as well.

Castiel smiles as he notices the situation. “Hello, Dean.” 

Dean keeps a smile growing by the second as he darts his eyes from Cas to Audrey to the pie. “Uh, hey. Is that pie?” He asks, eyes seeking interest.

Castiel takes a moment to realize he was busy staring at the way Dean’s face moved. “Oh- yes. I have a friend who runs a bakery. She dropped by with plenty of pastries for me to finish on my own, so I thought we should- I mean I thought it’d be nice to, uh…” He trails off like that, somehow hoping Dean would understand.

Dean smirks and steps aside. “I’m always game for some pie. Come on in.”

Castiel smiles shyly and looks at Achilles, who looks back with his pupils dilated. “I see you’ve gotten used to him,” Castiel states.

“Yeah, he’s not so bad.” Dean closes the door and crouches down for Achilles to hop off, Cas doing the same with Audrey. The two cats sit quietly. “So, what’ve we got here?” Dean asks, feasting his eyes on the pie in Castiel’s hands.

“Chocolate pecan. You don’t mind that, do you?” Castiel questions.

Dean grins. “My favourite.”

Castiel sets the pie on the square kitchen table as he watches Dean take _two_ dessert plates out of the cabinet. He eyes them questioningly with an eyebrow raised.

“What? You’re sharing this with me, aren’t you?” Dean asks. He pulls out two forks and smiles, offering Cas one. “C’mon.”

Castiel smiles back and accepts it, taking a seat himself. Dean doesn’t seem to mind his presence at all.

“Wait-” Dean tilts his head down and examines the label on the packaged pie. “ _A Little Slice of Oz?_ Your friend runs this place?”

Castiel nods. “Have you been there?”

“Well, yeah! I mean, not always, but I drop by after class sometimes. It’s pretty close to the studio,” Dean explains. “Who’s your friend?”

“Her name’s Charlie. Short red hair, she mostly stands by the counter in the evening,” Castiel says.

Dean grabs a knife and starts cutting the pie from the middle. “Yeah, I think I’ve seen her before,” he says, taking a seat on Castiel’s side. “How long’s she been in business?”

Castiel counts in his head. “About three years. She started before I moved in.”

“Oh. Why’d you move out?” Dean asks as he forks through his slice of pie.

Castiel shrugs. “I always planned to have a place on my own. When Dorothy moved in, I figured- it was a good time to leave and give them some privacy.”

“Dorothy?”

“Sorry- Charlie’s girlfriend,” Castiel answers.

Dean nods in understanding. “Ah.”

Castiel takes a bite of his pie and hums at the taste. “And my boss,” he mumbles.

Dean’s eyes go wide as he pauses with the fork slightly brushing his bottom lip. “You’re joking.”

“Believe me, I’ve never experienced a more awkward morning,” Castiel finds himself mumbling.

“God, I can imagine.” Dean rumbles a laugh and finally puts that bit of pie in his mouth. “Mm. That’s good pie,” he adds, rolling his eyes back in pleasure.

Castiel can’t believe Dean Winchester is someone who exists in his life. He smiles and enjoys the rest of his slice, trying not to watch Dean too intently.

Achilles meows underneath the table as Dean places a second slice onto his plate. Castiel looks over to check where Audrey is and sees her slowly pacing around the room, studying it with every step.

“What do you want?” Dean asks down at Achilles, who lifts his front paws to Dean’s lap. Achilles meows again and jumps up, immediately turning to sniff the pie on the table. Dean quickly holds him back with his free hand. “Not yours. _Mine._ ”

Castiel nearly laughs at his serious tone. Achilles is still trying despite Dean’s efforts of holding him back and putting the pie further from the cat’s reach. Achilles turns in Dean’s lap and eventually relaxes, then looks up at him and meows again.

“No,” Dean argues back with.

Achilles looks at the floor and jumps off, walking away as if he just understood what Dean was saying. Castiel drops his mouth open.

“Did he just- no buddy, come back!” Dean calls, his face half-filled with guilt. “Great, now I feel bad.”

Castiel beams at how Dean was already used to being a cat owner. “Audrey sulks as well. But she’ll find a way to anger me, whether it’s leaving a scratch mark on the curtain or a dead bug on my bed.”

“Really? How long have you had her?” Dean asks. He gets up and takes a couple of steps to the fridge. “Sorry, can I get you a soda or beer or somethin’?”

“Soda’s fine,” Castiel says. He accepts the can Dean passes to him. “Charlie gave her to me a few months before I moved out.”

“That’s sweet.”

The rest of his time with Dean is mostly small talk compared to how much they talked the night before, but Castiel enjoys it nonetheless. He learns that Dean only has to go to work a few times a week and likes video games. Cas texts Charlie the minute he gets back to his own apartment.

**_< < I think you’ll like him._ **

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**9 th September, Saturday**

Dean grimaces at the foul smell as soon as he steps out of the bedroom. Achilles must have done some extra work last night.

Dean goes to the back of the kitchen and sees Achilles staring up at him with wide, innocent eyes as he sits next to his litter box. He’s waiting for it to be cleaned. Jess stated in the Achilles list that Saturday is cleaning day and there are even instructions on cleaning it properly.

He lifts the litter box and avoids looking at it while holding his breath. “Don’t you dare try pissing on the floor,” he quickly warns, and Achilles continues giving him a blank look.

Dean throws the litter into a plastic bag and gets the cleaning done in no time. He has no idea how Sam and Jess could do this so regularly. He hears Achilles meow repeatedly from the kitchen and finishes up drying.

“Okay okay okay, hold on!” Dean hurriedly places new litter into the box and puts the box at its usual spot.

Achilles climbs into it immediately and starts digging and kicking some of the litter out of the box before he does his thing.

Dean sighs. “Why do you hate me so much? Why?” He asks, proceeding to the kitchen to prepare Achilles his first meal.

He makes sure Achilles is too invested in his food to notice Dean leaving the apartment to take out the trash.

Dean thinks the Universe might hate him a little. Outside, he sees none other than Castiel, temporary neighbour who he still hasn’t asked out yet, finishing up a morning jog. Dean’s sweating like a pig from cleaning freakin’ cat litter in the bathroom and he probably smells, and Cas has to be the most appealing-looking jogger to exist.

Dean wipes his brows quickly before Castiel can see him. Castiel eventually does and sends him a tired smile with a small wave as he slows down his jogging.

“Morning run?” Dean says, of all things. He nearly expects Cas to reply sarcastically.

Castiel eventually comes to a stop in front of their apartment building, next to Dean and nods. “I haven’t done this in a while,” he says, panting in between words.

Dean smiles. “Well, you’re looking— doing great. Gonna go another round?”

Castiel looks around at the path he could continue on to. “I would love to but-” He takes a few deep breaths and shrugs. “I don’t want to.”

Dean laughs a bit too much at that, but the fondness on Castiel’s face doesn’t make him feel ashamed for it.

They both kind of awkwardly decide to go up the steps together at the same time and head to their respective apartments. Dean walks behind Cas and _tries_ not to take in Cas’ appearance from the back. He tries.

By the time they make the last turn, Cas is still fumbling around in his pockets for something, probably his keys. Dean watches as Castiel stops by his door and takes the items out of his pockets one by one.

He starts with his phone and then a few dollar bills, earphones, and… nothing else.

Castiel pulls a look of realization and disappointment at the same time, sighing to himself. “I can’t believe myself.”

“Got a spare somewhere around?” Dean asks.

Cas turns to face him. “I do have one. In the top drawer right next to the door.”

“Okay, hold on a sec.” Dean finds his own keys and gets into Sam and Jess’ place.

“What are you doing?” Castiel asks.

“Saving you some money,” Dean says back. He grabs his wallet from the kitchen table and searches through for some old cards.

“Um- cards won’t work on this lock. I’ve tried,” Castiel says.

Dean figures he’s been locked out before and smirks as he takes out the paperclip between the wallet’s pockets. “How often does this happen to you?”

“Second time in two weeks of living here,” Castiel confesses guiltily. “I’m so sorry for troubling you.”

Dean looks up at him momentarily and gives him an assuring smile. “It’s fine, it won’t take more than a minute.” He hopes it won’t. It’s been a while since he’s done this, and embarrassing himself in front of the neighbor he _might_ just have a big crush on doesn’t sound good at all.

Thankfully, the picking doesn’t take long, and by the time Dean’s done, he turns around to see Castiel crouched to the floor with Achilles moving all over him.

“Oh- thank you so much,” Cas says, standing up. “I don’t know whether to feel relieved or unsafe.” He says with a grin.

Achilles meows, looking up at him as he rubs against Cas’ legs. Cas smiles fondly at the cat and bends down slightly to pet his head a few more times. He probably has his way with every cat, doesn’t matter what breed they are or what personality they have; Dean thinks any cat would love him from the second they met him.

Dean hears a tiny, _tiny_ meow at the corner of the door behind him and sees a grey paw trying to make its way out. He sees a striking golden eye staring up at him and smiles as he slowly makes space for her to come out.

Audrey gravitates herself towards Dean’s shoe and lands her head on it like a pillow, rolling her body to the floor. She looks freakin’ adorable and Dean can’t help but laugh when she starts nibbling on his shoe.

“Audrey!” Castiel scolds lightly.

“It’s cool,” Dean assures and squats down to pet her. He doesn’t realize he’s cooing at her until he hears Cas snicker in front of him. Achilles tries getting Cas’ attention back by lifting his paws onto his knee. Cas doesn’t move a muscle and yet Achilles attempts to climb up him.

“Hey, you can’t do that to him!” Dean complains at the cat, but Cas sticks his leg out and lets the ginger cat do it anyway.

Castiel laughs as Achilles’ fur tickles his ear and wags a finger towards his other shoulder to sit on. Achilles follows.

Dean smirks. “That’s cute,” he mumbles.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Dean says right away and clears his throat. Cas smiles at the way Achilles is simply staring at his hand and pets him by the neck gently. Dean’s _fucking_ screwed. “Hey, you doin’ anything tonight?” He asks, standing up. He wipes the sweat off his palms onto his trousers. “I was just thinking…”

“I do have Charlie and Dorothy coming over sometime before dinner,” Cas casually answers before he can finish. He switches his glance from Dean to Achilles because the cat decided to switch shoulders for no reason. “Why? You don’t have _more_ laundry to do, do you?” he teases, eyes brightening up at Achilles demanding for a scratch on the chin.

Dean laughs nervously, hiding his disappointment as well as he can. “It’s- no, it’s nothing.”

“Well- I hate to leave you, but I desperately need a shower,” Cas says. Dean isn’t even sure if he’s talking to _him_ or that freakin’ cat on his shoulder. Soon Achilles is back on the floor and Cas pets him one last time. “I’ll see you around. Thank you again,” he says, giving Dean a soft smile.

“Yeah, see you,” Dean replies, doing his best not to sound embarrassed.

Castiel nods and walks past him, looking at Audrey to follow him back. Dean hears the apartment door shut behind him and immediately lets out a frustrated sigh. He knocks his forehead repeatedly with his knuckles and comes into eye contact with Achilles.

“This is all your fault,” Dean whispers.

Achilles meows.

“Yeah, yeah, shut up.”

 

+++

 

It doesn’t occur to Castiel until he’s in the shower, replaying their conversation in his head.

“No. No, no, no, no, no.”

 

+++

 

Castiel doesn’t have to stress so much about this. He tells himself that. But when he tells Charlie about it, he might as well just stress out like it’s the worst thing to ever happen to him.

“Please tell me you’re joking,” Charlie says.

“Does it look like I am?” Castiel questions, putting on an obviously defeated face.

“I can’t believe you!” Charlie exclaims. Dorothy comes out of the bathroom and hears them. “What?”

Charlie turns to her. “You know that guy Cas has a crush on? He tried asking Cas out today and Cas had _no_ idea. He told him he had dinner plans with us,” she explained, rolling her eyes at the last bit.

“I do have dinner plans with you!” Cas argues straight away. “And there’s a chance that he _didn’t_ ask me out.”

Charlie snorts. “Right. I forgot you were too busy paying attention to his _cat_.”

Cas sighs and slaps his forehead. “I must’ve seemed extremely rude.”

Dorothy just shrugs. “If you don’t want to seem rude, you could just invite him over now,” she suggests.

“Yes!” Charlie approves, clapping her hands together.

“You can’t be serious,” Castiel deadpans.

“C’mon, you could just tell him— _I_ wanna meet him. You’ve got extra for dinner anyway,” Charlie persuades. “Please?”

“No.” Castiel shakes his head at her with a dead look, making it clear that he wasn’t going to do it.

Ten minutes later, he finds himself in front of Dean’s door with his fist raised. He takes a deep breath and knocks twice. He straightens himself up and makes sure to pay attention this time.

The door opens and Dean looks slightly puzzled as to why Cas is standing in front of him.

“Cas, hey. Aren’t you busy?” Dean asks.

Cas forms a thin line with his mouth and shakes his head. “I— yes, I have friends over. But something might have just occurred to me and— I have more than enough prepared for dinner and Charlie kind of wants to meet you and— um, would you like to join us?” He rambles and puts a stop to it with the reason he was here.

Dean registers all of that and furrows his eyebrows. “Me?”

“Achilles is welcome as well,” Cas states.

Dean slowly nods and smiles at him. “Uh, sure. That’d be great. I’ll be over in a minute.”

Cas’ heart eases. “Of course. You’re not lactose intolerant, are you?” he asks.

“No, I’m not. What’ve you got ready?”

Cas smiles and blushes at the way Dean’s already excited. “A simple lasagne, sweet potatoes and some vegetables. I hope you weren’t already planning other things.”

“Nah, I was probably gonna microwave something up,” Dean says. “Just uh, give me a second, ‘kay?”

Cas nods and sees Dean shut the door back. He gets back to his apartment where Charlie’s anticipating his return and lets out a huge sigh of relief.

“How’d it go?” Charlie asks.

Cas points his thumb up. “He’ll be here soon.”

“I told you it’d be no harm!”

“Please don’t be weird around him,” Cas pleads at her.

“I won’t!” Charlie affirms.

“I’ll be sure to calm her down,” Dorothy says, putting a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “Meanwhile, you should probably set up the table.”

Cas darts his eyes towards the empty kitchen table and hurries to his cabinet to get a tablecloth. He picks one with a green-white-checker pattern and lays it on the table evenly.

There are two knocks on the door and Cas quickly looks at Charlie and Dorothy as he places the plate of potatoes on the table. “Could either of you please get that?”

“My pleasure.”

Cas puts the rest of dinner on the table and roughly hears the conversation that goes on between Charlie and Dean.

“Oh, it’s you!” Charlie chimes, recognizing him.

Dean lets out a low laugh. “Yeah. I’m Dean, this is Achilles, and you must be Charlie.”

“And that’s Dorothy. Come on in, Cas was just setting up the table.”

Cas looks up as Dean walks in and greets Dorothy with an awkward smile. He figures Dean’s seen her in Charlie’s bakery as well. Dean lets Achilles down to the floor and sees Cas by the kitchen table.

“Hi.”

“Hello,” Cas greets back. “I’m finishing up here, just hold on a second.” He grabs four pairs of utensils and four plates, then moves on to the glasses.

“Did you make all of that?” Dean asks, looking impressed at the setting.

Cas nods as he adds more napkins to the napkin holder in the middle and adjusts the position each plate.

“Cas is a _great_ cook. Dorothy and I practically suffer without him around anymore,” Charlie starts.

“The second part of that sentence is a lie,” Cas states.

“Hey. You callin’ me a bad cook?” Dorothy interjects. Charlie only raises her eyebrows and gives her a pointed look. Dorothy rolls her eyes and smiles.

“Table’s set,” Cas announces, filling up the last glass with cold lemonade.

That catches everyone’s attention, thankfully. They quietly make their way to the table and Cas hopes someone breaks the awkward tension around them soon.

“So Dean, how long have you been dancing?” Charlie asks. “I mean, Cas told me you were a dancer, so I was just curious,” she adds. Cas stops himself from glaring right at her.

Dean looks up and switches his glance from her to Cas, shyly smiling. “Uh- my whole life, kinda. Not much experience on stage, but it’ll do.”

Cas smiles at that, taking a seat. “Not much?”

“Yeah. I’ve been fine with just teaching for a long time,” Dean says.

That sentence makes Castiel’s heart ache a little, even though Dean didn’t seem upset about it. Dean did tell him a lot about how he studied dance and all the things he had to do, but Cas doesn’t know much about his stage experience, or why he just went with teaching. How much did Dean once dream of becoming a dancer on stage? How many times did Dean try out for something? Does he ever think about it?

“Who knows? You might get an upgrade like Dorothy did,” Charlie remarks.

Dean raises his eyebrows in a questioning manner.

“I used to be the P.E. teacher, now I’m principal.” Dorothy tells him that the former principal was a total dickhead who barely took any action on bullying and hired teachers based on how they looked. Eventually he got fired and Dorothy took over, resulting in the school be bully-free ever since. Dean shows a fondness in his smile when he hears that.

“I was the first new teacher she hired,” Cas says, smiling at the memory. “You were really strict and scary in that interview.”

“I _am_ still strict and scary,” Dorothy argues.

Charlie snorts, taking a bite of her sweet potatoes. “Only when I want you to be.” She winks at Dorothy and gets a glare in return, and Cas feels like he’s living with them again.

He sees Dean pleasantly smiling at them over the rim of his glass. “How long have you guys been together?” Dean asks.

“Three years.” “Two years.” Charlie and Dorothy answer at the same time.

Cas rolls his eyes as he feels another useless bicker coming along.

“Two,” Dorothy says again.

“Three!” Charlie protests.

“We weren’t official in the first year,” Dorothy says back.

“You were to me,” Cas jumps in. “I’d say you two were official from day three.”

Charlie beams. “Ha!”

Dorothy takes a sip of her lemonade. “If official means getting ditched at the cinema,” she mutters.

“Well, exc _use_ you for-”

“No, don’t bring that up again. It contributes to the list of reasons as to why I moved out,” Cas states.

It’s quiet for two seconds until Charlie’s mumbling under her breath, mocking what Cas just said.

“Am I— did I just start something?” Dean asks. All three heads turn to him. He has his mouth half-open and his fork lifted with the first piece of lasagne poked through it, not knowing what to do.

Cas almost laughs because of how innocent he looks, but he feels bad for leaving him out like that. “I’m so sorry, Dean. This is how we usually have dinner,” he assures.

“We love each other, really,” Dorothy says.

“Oh,” Dean responds. “That’s okay, it’s kind of the same with me, my brother and his wife.”

“You’re watching their apartment?” Charlie asks.

Dean nods, taking a bite of his lasagne. “And the cat,” he mentions, turning his head to check if Achilles is still playing at the scratching post with Audrey. He pauses as he chews his food and looks down at his plate, as if something was wrong with it.

Cas has been told that he’s good at making lasagne. He himself finds it pretty delicious as well and he’s cooked it several times to improve. Of course, every cook has their unlucky days, and Cas can’t help but think that day is today.

“Is something wrong with it? Is it overcooked? Undercooked?” Cas asks, taking his fork and cutting through his lasagne.

“No, no! It’s— _amazing,_ ” Dean compliments. “I don’t remember the last time I had a good lasagne. Where’d you learn to cook like this?”

Cas feels a blush coming along his neck because Dean’s being so genuine and interested. Charlie’s eyes are on him, but he knows better than to look back at her.

“Thank you,” Cas utters, softly smiling at him. “I suppose I experiment with dishes every now and then.”

“Told you we suffer without him,” Charlie says.

“Hm. Your bakery’s _great_ , though.” Dean forks through his lasagne, making sure to get lots of cheese for one mouthful.

Charlie smiles. “Yeah, Cas said you liked my pies. I brought cake today, hope you don’t mind.”

“Course not. I can dig cake too,” Dean makes known.

Charlie’s eyes dart to Cas, and Cas can hear all the telepathic messages she’s sending him. Thankfully, she gives him a break throughout the rest of dinner and lets Cas or Dorothy talk to Dean instead. It’s an easy flow and Dean seems comfortable, enjoying everything Cas cooked.

When everyone’s plates are clean, Charlie taps Dorothy by the arm and says something along the lines of checking out the new TV. She takes one slice of butter chiffon cake and leaves the rest of the plate on the table before heading off to the living room with Dorothy.

For Cas to be left alone with Dean.

Dean notices their sudden departure and Cas sees a mini panic in his eyes. Things shouldn’t be awkward at all. They weren’t awkward before, not until Dean possibly tried to ask Cas out and Cas was too invested in Achilles to notice.

“You weren’t uncomfortable by this dinner, were you?” Cas asks when the TV is switched on. “I know Charlie can be a handful whenever I make new friends,” he adds. _Friends_.

“Oh no, she’s great. So is Dorothy. And this food,” Dean says with a nervous chuckle. “I only get meals like this when I’m visiting my mom, I swear.”

Cas smiles. “How often do you visit her?”

“Well, it’s not exactly consistent. She’s a busy woman, but she makes up for it. The most I’ve gone without her is about- four months? We usually have monthly family dinners anyway.”

“That must be nice,” Cas responds. It really must be.

“Yeah. Hey, I’ll help you clear up?” Dean says, already standing to take the dirty plates away.

“Oh, you don’t—”

“I insist.” Dean gives him a warm smile and starts piling up the plates. He gives them to Cas to rinse and takes them back to place in the dishwasher. They work quietly with the TV in the background and Cas feels like it’s less awkward, but eventually they’ll have nothing to do other than talk again.

Cas cling wraps the leftovers and puts them in the fridge. He turns and sees Dean by the sink, rinsing the other glass containers. It won’t hurt to ask him about what happened earlier, will it?

Cas steps forward, taking the jug previously filled with lemonade as he makes his way to the sink. “Thank you for helping,” he says.

Dean turns, smiles and takes the jug out of Cas’ hands. “No problem.” He takes his time rinsing it even when it’s unnecessary and puts it in the dishwasher, arranging it perfectly as well. After that, he grabs a slice of chiffon cake from the plate on the table and takes a bite.

“Never thought I’d enjoy cake this much,” Dean remarks.

Cas holds back a sigh. It definitely feels like Dean’s trying his best to make the air less awkward with small talk.

“Dean, earlier this morning, did you uh…” Cas says it fast and thinks about how to phrase the second part of the sentence.

Dean’s eyes spark up in interest while he’s mid-chewing, and Cas can tell he’s expecting him to go on.

“Earlier this morning, you asked if I—”

A loud ringtone fills the room and Dean’s face falls as he pulls out his phone from his pocket. Cas holds back a heavy sigh and waits for Dean to answer it.

Dean stitches his eyebrows together as he reads the caller ID. “I might have to take this, sorry.”

“Go ahead.”

Dean steps away and answers immediately. “Yeah?”

Cas turns his back to him as well, nervously rubbing his neck while Dean talks on the phone.

“What- shit dude, are you hurt?” Dean asks the caller, looking quite worried. “Yeah, sure. You at home? Okay. Okay, I’m on my way.”

“Is everything okay?” Cas asks as soon as he hangs up.

Dean shakes his head. “Friend of mine just got mugged. He’s not hurt or anything, but it’s best if someone stays with him for the night.”

“Oh, that’s awful,” Cas says.

“Yeah. I better go now. Thanks for dinner.”

“Is Achilles gonna be okay left alone for the night?” Cas asks.

Dean’s shoulders heave down as he looks around for the cat. “Ugh, right. I guess- I guess so? I mean, he didn’t do too well the last time.”

“If you’re worried, I can watch him for the night,” Cas says without a thought.

Dean’s eyes open with surprise. “You sure? He’s pretty jumpy.”

“I don’t mind.”

Dean sighs. “God, you’re way too awesome for me,” he mutters. “Thank you. Seriously. I’ll uh, give you a spare key and my number just in case.”

“You’re giving me a spare key to your brother’s apartment after I forgot my own one this morning?”

Dean shrugs with a light smile. “Yeah.”

He leaves with a goodbye to Charlie and Dorothy and hands Cas the spare key, thanking him another time when they exchange numbers. Achilles goes to follow him and Cas sees a flash of hurt on Dean’s eyes when he closes the door without him.

“That went well,” Charlie says, leaning against the kitchen divider.

Cas sighs. “Remind me to never be involved with human interaction, ever again,” he says in defeat. He looks down at Achilles and Audrey at his feet and lowers himself to the ground as he pets both of them. “I can only count on you two.”

Charlie casts him a worried look and makes him a warm cup of hot chocolate before she leaves with Dorothy that night.

 

+++

 

Dean sets the bowl of hot mushroom soup in front of his friend and sits opposite him at the kitchen table. “How’d this happen?”

“I don’t know,” Benny grumbles. “Bad things just happen.”

“You don’t wanna talk about it?” Dean asks.

Benny stays silent and eats his soup, ignoring Dean’s question.

“Alright,” Dean says. He doesn’t push and knows Benny will give in later anyway.

Twenty minutes into quietly watching a basketball game (Dean doesn’t remember any other time they’ve actually sat down and watched one), Benny gets up, makes two decafs and sits back down with a sigh.

“Signed the divorce papers today,” Benny mumbled, giving Dean a coffee. “Went well. Thought it did, at least.”

 _Ah, Andrea._ “Shit. What’d you do?” Dean asks.

“Nothin’. Well, not nothin’- I drank a few shots. Things got blurry and this guy just came up to me outside. I dunno, maybe he had a knife.”

“ _Maybe?_ ”

“Like I said, things got blurry. Things are _still_ blurry. Anyway, how’s things with you?” Benny asks and takes a sip of his coffee.

Dean huffs. “Dude, you just got divorced and mugged, and you wanna talk about _my_ love life?”

Benny looks up at that and smirks. “I didn’t say anythin’ about love.”

“I mean— my life. No love.”

“Who is this person?” Benny asks.

“No one. Stop try’na change the subject.”

“I told you, things got blurry. The guy just took some money and ran before the cops came,” Benny explained.

“Was it a lot?” Dean asks.

Benny shakes his head. “Nah. Just brought enough for a trip to the bar.”

“Well— no more of that for now, ‘kay? Stay at home for a few days,” Dean suggests.

“Can’t. Got work to do,” Benny argues.

“Can’t you tell them you just got _mugged?_ ” Dean asks.

Benny smiles. “Brother, I appreciate you looking out for me, I do. But I’d rather go back to the job I love than sit at home, thinkin’ about this crappy day.”

Dean hates it when Benny has a point. “Fine. The drinking though-”

“I’ll cut down on it, mother,” Benny drawls.

“Yeah, you will,” Dean says, ignoring the name Benny just called him.

“Speakin’ of jobs, how’s yours treating you?”

“Same old, same old. Why?”

Benny shrugs. “I may have quit the agency, but I still check things from time to time. Some producer’s looking for young dancers for a short film.”

“Benny, we’ve talked about this.”

“Yeah. That was two years ago. Look, I’m not saying audition for the lead in a play. I’m saying start small,” Benny counters.

Dean gives him a shrug and a tight lipped smile. “I don’t know. I’d have to talk to Missouri.”

“And you know she’d say yes and help you in a heartbeat,” Benny replies.

Dean stays quiet, pondering on the thought of getting back in the game again. He rolls his eyes at Benny’s smug look and hides his face as he takes a long sip of coffee.

“Whatever. I’ll think about it. Shut up,” Dean decides.

Benny chuckles to himself, obviously satisfied. They go back to watching the game and make innocent bets on which team’s gonna win or who’s gonna score. Benny completely dozes off on the couch before the game ends and Dean doesn’t have the heart to wake him, so he gets a blanket and fits a pillow under his friend’s head instead.

Dean has known Benny long and well enough to not have to ask permission to sleep in his bed. He won’t even be surprised if Benny got up in the middle of the night and collapsed right next to him.

Dean has differing opinions in his head about the short film he could audition for. He doesn’t know much about it other than what Benny told him, and if Benny thought it was worth it he’d at least tell Dean the name of the producer/company. Benny’s still pretty drunk and recovering from a mugging, though.

He checks his phone and sees a message that was sent an hour ago.

**_Cas_ **

**_> > [image]_ **

**_> > I don’t know how this happened._ **

Dean laughs at the picture of Achilles and Audrey sprawled on each side of Castiel’s bed, giving no space for Cas to sleep.

 ** _< < Shit HAHA, sorry man _**he types. He decides to backspace on _man_ and sends the message.

Two minutes later he gets a reply.

**_> > [image]_ **

**_> > How is your friend?_ **

It’s another picture of Achilles and Audrey on Cas’ bed, but the camera is angled from Cas’ chest where he lays in between them. Achilles has his paws on Cas’ stomach and is facing the camera while Audrey’s body is seen to be close to Cas’ shoulder.

**_< < He’s doing ok, a little drunk tho. He might be hungover in the morning_ **

**_< < Again, thanks for everything. Dinner was fantastic, u should invite me over more often_ **

He sends his messages without proof-reading, but he doesn’t really regret it.

**_> > I will :)_ **

**_> > [image]_ **

Dean takes a second to realize what’s happening in the picture Cas sent him. Cas used his front camera but his face is covered by Achilles. His eyes are slightly showing above Achilles’ body, and it definitely seems like he’s smiling.

**_> > Good night, Deam_ **

**_> > *Dean_ **

Dean snorts.

**_< < Night, Cass._ **

**_< < *Cas_ **

**_> > Very funny._ **

Dean has to slap himself to try to keep the smile off his face before he eventually dozes off.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**10 th September, Sunday**

Audrey purrs in Castiel’s lap as he slides the brush against her back another time. She turns and sits up facing him, lifting her head, seemingly demanding a chest brush.

Castiel smiles, resting his back against the wall. “Not yet,” he says, continuing to gently brush her beautiful grey coat from head to tail.

Achilles paces towards him, hovering his head forward to Castiel’s hand.

“You want a grooming as well?” Castiel asks, using one hand to pet Achilles’ head. “First of all, you need to get in line. Second, your hair is much longer and thinner than Audrey’s.” He moves the brush to Audrey’s chest and checks the floor around him. Audrey hasn’t shed that much.

A couple of minutes later, he finishes with Audrey, gets up, and searches through her box for the wide tooth comb.

Castiel sits back on the floor crossed-legged. “I don’t know how you are with grooming. But you seem quite eager, so…” Achilles goes over to him, eyes following each movement of Castiel’s hand. Castiel starts gently combing the cat’s back and checks from time to time if Achilles is comfortable.

Dean hasn’t texted him back on when he’s returning and it’s already closing in on eleven. Castiel hopes he’s okay.

He thought he could view Dean as a friend, he really did. It’s not easy for Cas to develop a crush and it usually took weeks or months anyway. Yet the night before, texting Dean, Cas was grinning and blushing like a high schooler. Not like he knew what it was like to have a crush in high school.

Achilles rolls over, exposing his stomach.

“Hey- I’m not done with you,” Castiel hisses. Achilles sticks his paws out and tries to reach for the comb in Castiel’s hand. “No, you cannot have it.”

Castiel looks up when he hears a knocking pattern on the door. Audrey and Achilles’ ears move towards the opposite direction. He brushes the cat hair off his pants and catches the nearest mirror, making sure his morning face and hair isn’t too— _morning._

Using the comb to lead Achilles with him, Castiel goes to the front door and opens it with a smile.

His smile falters when it’s not Dean, instead a much shorter man with a cap and sunglasses on.

The man removes his sunglasses as a smirk plays on his mouth.

“Hello!”

“Gabe? What are you…” Castiel steps aside and lets him in immediately, looking out the hallways to see if anyone else is around.

“Came to check on you! It’s been what, a month?” Gabriel takes his cap off and fans himself with it. “God Cas, don’t tell me you got _another_ cat,” he says, looking down at Achilles.

Castiel closes the door, making sure Achilles doesn’t escape. “No, I’m watching him for a friend. What are you doing here?”

“What, am I not allowed to see my lil bro?” Gabriel asks.

“Well- no, not when you’re filming eight hundred miles away. I didn’t expect to see you for another two months. What happened?”

Gabriel eyes the apartment as Cas speaks. “They killed off Doctor Bryant,” he states casually. “Love what you did to the place.”

Castiel’s jaw drops, eyes go wide in shock. “Are you- _fucking_ serious?” He doesn’t swear that often, really, but this moment is pretty fucking worth it. “Damn it Gabriel, you could’ve given me a spoiler alert.”

Gabriel smirks. “I’m sorry, I thought you called that show _horrendous_.”

“It’s an awful, awful guilty pleasure. I can’t believe they’d kill your character!” Castiel lets out. “I can’t believe this.”

“Don’t worry, I might come back at the end of the season!” Gabriel blurts.

Castiel glares daggers at him. “Gabriel!”

Gabriel winces. “Wasn’t supposed to mention that to anyone.”

“This is going to piss off many people,” Castiel says. It’s true; killing off the only queer representation on the show was the worst and laziest decision to make.

“Yeah, I know. I stopped filming a few weeks ago,” Gabriel says with a sigh. There’s a little sadness in his eyes. Cas knew he was pretty attached to the character, having played it for three years.

Castiel tries to shake off the news. “So you came to check on the place?” He asks, focusing back on his brother.

“Sure. You too, wouldn’t hurt to see how you’re doing.”

Castiel feels a sudden pounce next to him and looks down to see Achilles trying to snatch the comb out of his hand. Achilles successfully makes it drop to the ground and jumps back when it lands with a cling.

“I’m fine. School just started this week,” Castiel says.

“Ah. Must be nice, having a job.”

“You’ll definitely get a job soon,” Castiel assured.

Gabriel responds with an unsure shrug and heads to the upper cabinets in the kitchen. “You busy today?” he asks, grabbing a sachet of vanilla latte.

“Not really. Most of my work is done.”

“Then come on! Let’s go out, do something fun,” Gabriel rejoices, making his drink.

“Depends on what you define as- _fun_ ,” Castiel replies. He’s willing to cheer Gabe up, but there is always a line to certain things Cas would do. Gabriel crosses it all the time.

Gabriel stirs his latte and ponders on it for a moment. “Strippers.”

“No.”

“Fine. What do _you_ suggest we do?” Gabriel asks.

“Maybe…” Castiel lands his gaze on the mug in Gabriel’s hand and averts it to the ripped sachet on the counter, realizing something. He smirks. “I should _finally_ teach you how to cook.”

“What- I can cook!” Gabriel claims.

“Name me three dishes you’ve made. successfully,” Castiel states.

Gabriel lets his eyes wander around the room and shrugs. “Grilled cheese. Mac ‘n cheese. Grilled cheese.”

“I’m going to teach you how to make spaghetti. You can’t live off room service forever.”

Gabriel grumbles but agrees anyway. Learning new things is a way of getting things off Gabriel’s mind. When Cas lived with him in LA, there were days when Cas would come back to new things around the apartment, be it knitwear, origami, plants; Cas would know Gabriel didn’t get an acting part or had a nasty breakup. He never tried cooking since Cas was always around doing it for him.

As Castiel breaks and dips the spaghetti into the boiling water, Gabriel points to the door.

“I think someone just knocked. Should I go get it?”

“No, that’s probably my neighbor. Stay here, don’t set anything on fire,” Castiel orders.

Gabriel rolls his eyes and watches the spaghetti.

Castiel finds Achilles by the leg of the table and manages to lead him to the door. He checks the peephole this time, confirming it’s Dean and carefully lifts Achilles to his chest.

“Cas, you in?” Dean calls from outside.

“Yes- yes, hold on,” Castiel answers, balancing Achilles in his arms as he turns the knob.

Dean smiles guiltily when he sees him. “Hey. Sorry I couldn’t tell you what time I was coming, my phone died and my friend was pretty damn hungover.”

“It’s fine, Dean. He was a pleasure to take care of,” Castiel says, scratching Achilles by the neck.

Dean sighs and offers to carry Achilles. “Hope so. He didn’t poop anywhere, did he?”

Castiel slowly moves Achilles to Dean’s arms. “No, he used his own litterbox this morning,” he replies. “Right- the spare key. Hold on.” He opens the drawer next to him and searches for the key with the blue label sticker.

Dean’s eyes aren’t focusing anywhere near him when Cas turns back.

Castiel follows his gaze to see Gabriel facing them, smirking with raised eyebrows. _Oh no._

“Holy shit,” Dean utters.

Castiel rubs the back of his neck as Gabriel makes his way over to them. “Dean, this is my brother Gabriel. Gabriel, Dean.”

Gabriel gives him a sheepish smile and offers a hand. Dean almost fumbles and carries Achilles with one arm as he shakes Gabriel’s hand, staring at it in awe. Of course Dean had to be a fan of Dr Sexy.

“Yeah, I- wow. Can I just say, you— play one of my favourite characters- like, ever. Doctor Bryant means so much to me,” Dean stammered. Castiel’s chest aches at that. Dean has no idea what’s coming.

“Thanks. He means a lot to me too,” Gabriel replies.

Dean turns to Cas, trying his best to hide a grin. “Dude, I can’t believe your brother’s Doctor Bryant,” he whispers, face going red.

“You can call me Gabriel. Maybe Gabe.” Castiel has to physically stop himself from rolling his eyes at his brother’s flirting.

“Right, of course. Gabriel- sir,” Dean corrects, nodding and ducking his face away.

Castiel isn’t going to tolerate this any longer. He hands Dean the spare key and forces a smile at Gabriel. “Gabriel, don’t you have something to keep an eye on?”

Gabriel switches his glance from Dean to Cas and opens his mouth. “Right. Pasta. Nice meeting you, Dean.” He waves and throws a wink at Dean before going back to the kitchen.

Dean stares after him for two seconds and stops when Castiel clears his throat in front of him. “So that’s the brother of mine you’ve been wondering about,” Castiel says.

“I can’t believe I just met someone from Dr Sexy. Aren’t they supposed to be filming?” Dean asks, moving his head as Achilles started to climb on him.

“Yes. Gabriel just has a day off,” Castiel explains.

“Wow. Hey, thanks for watching this guy. I owe you one,” Dean says, beaming at him.

“Anytime.” Castiel smiles back at him and slowly shuts the door, not letting the conversation progress.

He turns to see Gabriel staring at him teasingly. “We should start with those meatballs,” he suggests, ignoring his brother’s annoying stare.

“Ho-ho, I know that face!” Gabriel remarks.

Castiel rolls his eyes and starts searching for the other ingredients. “I’m not making any face.”

“Pure jealousy’s a good look on you, little bro,” Gabriel says.

“That’s absurd. I’m not jealous. There isn’t a reason to be,” Castiel responds quickly and goes to check on the spaghetti’s texture.

Gabriel paces towards him. “The only time you get jealous is when the situation involves either Science fairs or boys. Maybe both.”

“That’s- _absurd_ ,” Castiel repeats. He feels the heat rise in his belly and looks away as he tries to focus on the other ingredients. What the hell was he doing again? He probably should’ve started with the sauce.

Gabriel snickers and crosses his arms. “Spaghetti and meatballs,” he chimes, reading Castiel’s mind.

“Shut up, I know,” Castiel claims.

He manages to get back on track, showing Gabriel the simplicity of making spaghetti. He prepares sweet tea while Gabriel does most of the work.

“Are you staying in Manhattan?” Castiel asks, putting the jug in the fridge to keep cool.

Gabriel adds his chopped onions to the sauce mixture. “Yeah, kind of. The apartment’s always there to welcome me,” he says while blinking back tears. “Onions, man, what the hell.”

“Where else are you going?”

“Well, there’re premieres, meetings, actor stuff I gotta attend. You know the drill.”

Castiel nods. He’s been used to “the drill” for quite some time now; watching Gabriel leave to travel around the country for work.

“Any chance you’ve heard from anyone at Pontiac recently?” Gabriel asks.

Castiel narrows his eyes at him. Pontiac, Illinois isn’t a subject to casually bring up; it hasn’t been for a long time. “No, why would I?”

Gabriel forms his mouth in a thin line and stirs the sauce around. “Michael called. We’re invited for Thanksgiving this year.”

Now _that’s_ a surprise. “We as in, you _and_ me?”

“Yep.”

“But why? What did you tell him?” Castiel asks. They hadn’t been invited to anything for _years_ , and the last time didn’t turn out well at all.

Gabriel snorts. “Told him to screw off and hung up, that’s what.”

Castiel sighs and shakes his head. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“What’d you expect me to say? Sure Mikey, we’d love to sit through a dinner with you and your family going on and on about how much you hate us!” Gabriel turns off the heat, allowing the sauce to cool.

“No, but- it’s been a long time since we’ve heard from them. They could be different,” Castiel asserts. “Not entirely the way we want them to be, but even a small change is change.”

Gabriel casts a tired and guilty look at him. “Man, I wish I could forgive people as easily as you.”

“I know we weren’t treated that well-”

“Understatement.”

“But aren’t you in any way curious as to why they’d call?” Castiel asks.

“I don’t know. All I can think is nothing good,” Gabriel sneers.

Castiel sighs again. “I’ll call Michael later. I’ll speak to him and get an update about what’s going on,” he decides.

Gabriel doesn’t like the idea of Cas talking to Michael and it’s clear on his face, but he agrees to it anyway. “So, am I ready to mix these babies together?” he asks, getting the pan of sauce ready.

“Sure.”

The spaghetti and meatballs are above average. Castiel tells Gabriel he rates it a 7.2 out of 10.

 

+++

 

Dean knows what’s coming when Jo walks towards him, hand in hand with a little boy in a plain white shirt and black pants. He looks about seven years old and has olive skin. The boy ducks his head in shyness, showing the top of his dark hair.

“Anthony, this is Mr Winchester, but you can call him Dean. Dean, this is Anthony,” Jo introduces.

Dean lowers himself to his height and beams at the kid. “Hey Anthony, how are you?”

Anthony nods. “Good, sir,” he mutters.

“Anthony wants to ask you a few questions, so I’ll leave you guys to talk, okay?” Jo shows a smile down at Anthony and pats his shoulder.

“Thank you, Ms Harvelle,” Anthony squeaks out politely.

“No problem,” Jo replies and acknowledges Dean before walking away.

“So buddy, what’d you want to talk to me about?” Dean asks.

“Ms Harvelle said… you’ve been dancing your whole life,” Anthony starts with. “Is that true?”

Dean smiles. “Pretty much, yeah. Why?”

“My momma said I could dance before I could walk. And my other momma takes videos of me dancing all the time. But… why do people make fun of me just because I dance?”

Dean takes a breath when he hears that. “These people- they’re from your school?”

Anthony nods. “They call me girly and _pansy_ for doing ballet. Some kids say it’s cause I got two moms…”

“Hey. You know that’s not true, right? None of that is,” Dean assures. “Ballet’s got nothing to do with being girly or manly or whatever. Those guys makin’ fun of you- they got no idea what it’s like to have real fun. You don’t wanna compare yourself to _that_ , do you?”

Anthony shakes his head. “Ballet is awesome.”

“Yeah, it is. Some people just don’t understand it the way we do. But their opinions don’t matter, do they?” Dean says.

Anthony shakes his head again. “No, sir.”

“That’s right. I know how it feels when people make fun of you, I do. But soon enough I learned, all that matters is that- you’re doing whatever you’re doing, just for you. No one else,” Dean advocates. “And you know what to do when people call you girly or pansy again?”

“What?”

“You take a breath and _grand allegro_ them right in the face.”

Anthony bursts into a fit of giggles, shaking his head. “I don’t wanna get expelled!”

Dean fakes a sad sigh. “Fine. You could always imagine it though, that’ll make you happy enough.”

“Okay,” Anthony says, still grinning wide with a missing canine.

“Anthony?” a feminine voice calls.

Dean turns and sees a woman in a pantsuit waiting by the entrance.

“That’s my mom!” Anthony enthusiastically responds.

Dean smiles and pats him by the arm. “Alright. Don’t want to keep her waiting.”

“Thanks, Dean,” Anthony marvels.

“Remember what I said, okay?” Dean says.

“Yeah.”

“C’mon, give me a fist bump,” Dean adds, closing his hand in a fist.

Anthony hits his fist against Dean’s and runs off to his mom. Dean smiles. Anthony reminds him a lot of himself when he was that age.

“Thanks,” Jo says, appearing beside him. She smiles and waves at Anthony as he leaves.

“How’s he in class?” Dean asks.

“He’s a natural. Just a little shy,” Jo comments. “He dances way better than I did when I was seven.”

“Sorry, didn’t notice you changed since then.”

Jo drops her mouth in an offended manner and laughs. “You want to challenge me, Winchester?”

“No- I take that back! You’re better than I am,” Dean claims.

Jo smiles at him and leaves to return to her studio room.

Dean takes a brisk shower and then leaves the studio, hands in pockets. It’s a cold evening and he wishes he brought a jacket with him.

Five minutes into walking home, he spots Charlie’s bakery. He sees the fairy lights switched on, giving the place a nice glow in the dull street.

 _Fuck it._ Dean goes in that direction, thinking of what he could possibly ask for. He opens the front door with a bell ringing above his head. Warmth surrounds him as soon as the door closes.

Charlie looks up from the cashier, pleasantly surprised to see him. “Dean! Hey, what can I do for you?”

Dean smiles back at her. “Hey Charlie. Any slight chance you got those pies left?”

“Lucky for you, I was a second away from cleaning up,” Charlie says. “Key lime and cherry today.”

Dean goes to the front of the counter, staring down at the small pies in the bakery case. “I’ll take the key lime to go,” he decides.

Charlie nods and proceeds to pack it up. Dean looks around and notices nobody else in the bakery. “Everyone else gone back?” he asks.

“Yeah. The others deserved most of the day off,” Charlie states, stapling the packaging. “And Dorothy’s busy planning her next assembly speech.”

Dean nods in understanding and takes five bucks from his wallet as Charlie places the pie in a paper bag. “Here you go,” Charlie says.

“Thanks.” Dean pays her and almost says goodbye, stepping away to leave.

“Oh wait! You’re going back to your brother’s place, right?” Charlie asks.

“Yeah.”

Charlie ducks behind the counter and gets back up with a closed paper bag. “Any chance you’re nice enough to pass this on to Cas?”

Dean smiles. “Sure. What’s the special occasion?”

“Nothing, it’s just been a while since I gave him a set of mini muffins,” Charlie says.

Dean takes the bag from her hand and tries not to blush at this new info. “Cas likes mini muffins, huh? Who’d have thought.”

“Cas likes everything,” Charlie points out. “He can cook and bake everything too. I think it’s a chemistry thing,” she adds on.

Dean smiles even more and swipes a thumb against the paper bag. His name is written in capital letters in black marker on it.

“Dean.”

He glances up at her to see her simpering at him. “What?”

“You’ve been standing there for five seconds,” Charlie remarks.

“Oh.” Dean straightens himself and lets out a nervous chuckle. “Yeah. Thanks for the pie. See ya.”

God, he needs to ask Cas out before he makes a fool of himself in front of everyone he knows.

Dean gets back to the apartment and the first thing he hears is Achilles running over to him. He might’ve been thirty minutes late to feed him.

“Sorry buddy, hold on!”

Achilles meows continuously until Dean puts a sufficient amount of tuna into his bowl. After Dean re-fills the water bowl, he removes his contact lenses, finally feeling relief to his eyes. He puts on his glasses and leaves to Cas’ apartment with the paper bag Charlie handed him.

Castiel comes to the door half a minute after Dean knocks. There’s a definite tiredness in his eyes, but he smiles anyway.

“Dean.”

“Hey Cas, sorry to interrupt. Charlie asked me to bring this to you,” Dean says, holding out the paper bag.

Cas takes the bag from Dean and looks inside. “Mini muffins,” he utters. “Thank you, Dean.”

“No problem.” Cas doesn’t look up or respond; he just stares at the bag and sighs. “You okay?” Dean asks.

Cas nods and peers up at Dean with a soft smile. “I am. It’s just been a long day.”

“Oh, you should get some rest then,” Dean says. He nearly turns to get back to his apartment.

“Actually, Dean… have you had dinner yet?” Cas asks.

Dean raises his eyebrows in questioning.

Cas smiles. “Uh, I taught Gabriel how to cook today. There are three types of spaghetti in my fridge, all of which are served for two, and if I’m not mistaken there’s an attempted casserole in there. So…”

Huh. Gabriel Novak doesn’t know how to cook.

Dean smirks. “Are you inviting me over or giving me a Tupperware?”

Cas steps aside and keeps an open space for Dean to walk in. “You did say I should invite you over more often.”

Dinner with Cas two nights in a row. It doesn’t have to be weird, not at all. _It’s not a date, shut up Dean._

“You really don’t mind me hogging your food all the time?” Dean says, already stepping in.

“I guess I don’t.”

Dean sees Audrey by her food bowl, devouring her own dinner away. The kitchen counter looks like it’s just been wiped and there are clean dishes about everywhere in the kitchen.

“Gabriel’s gone, huh?” Dean asks.

“Yes, he went back to his apartment. Sorry,” Cas replies.

Dean laughs. “Don’t worry Cas, you’re still my favorite Novak,” he says without thinking. He doesn’t miss the tiny smile on Cas’ lips.

“That’s good to know,” Cas mutters, opening the fridge. “Is carbonara okay with you?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Cas goes to reheat the spaghetti and stands by the microwave while Dean’s left at the table with Audrey by his foot. Audrey jumps onto Dean’s lap, yellow eyes staring into him. Dean smiles when she lets out that tiny chirp of a meow.

“You’re so freakin’ adorable,” Dean says, petting her head. “Man, if only Achilles was as quiet as you.” He moves his hand under her chin and watches her close her eyes in a calming manner. “I’m gonna miss seeing you after I go,” he adds. Audrey moves and puts her head on Dean’s tummy, purring away.

“You don’t have to,” Cas says. He’s leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, lightly smiling at them. “Not see her, I mean.”

Dean stares at him for two seconds and nods. “Yeah. Yeah, I don’t.” It seems like the perfect set up for Dean to finally spill and ask Cas out, for real this time. Dean would think so two days ago, or yesterday, even. But there’s something stopping him with the way Cas is acting and Dean isn’t sure why.

The microwave dings before either can say anything else.

Dean’s mouth waters at the smell of carbonara, and he might as well be drooling when he sees the result on his plate. The creamy spaghetti is covered in slices of bacon and mushrooms, seasoned with pepper. He shakes his head in awe because there is no way something as beautiful as that just came out of a microwave.

“Is something wrong? I’m sorry, I assumed you liked pepper on cheese because of the lasagne,” Cas says urgently.

Dean shakes his head more and faces him, beaming. “No man, it’s just— wow, you can really cook,” he compliments. He swears he can actually taste the food by just looking at it.

Cas smiles and sits on Dean’s right. “Dean, how often do you get a well-cooked meal?” he asks, placing two glasses of iced water on the table.

Dean shrugs. “As often as I visit my mom or Sam, maybe? I don’t know. My sandwiches and burgers are great though, if that counts,” he confesses, smiling to himself as he grabs his fork.

Cas nods, cupping the side of his face. “I guess it does. At least you’re younger. My brother’s nearing his late thirties and all he can do is- well, spaghetti.”

Pretty ironic for a guy who played a chef in a sitcom. “Hm. So uh, how did he start? Y’know, acting and all,” Dean asks. “If you don’t mind me asking.” He takes a forkful of creamy spaghetti and rolls his eyes to the back of his head at the burst of flavors in his mouth. Nothing better than bacon and cheese mixed together.

Cas’ mouth twists in a half-smile. “He was always interested in television. When he was a teenager, all he did was act and pretend. It annoyed the hell out of me as a kid, but he _was_ good. Dean, you have a—” He stops talking and snickers as he hands a napkin to him.

Dean takes it immediately and wipes the sauce off the corner of his mouth, chuckling himself. “Sorry. You and your brother lived in LA together, right?”

Cas nods. “That’s right. He was working small roles in Hollywood films before he moved on to being the comic relief in almost- everything.”

“Yeah, I noticed that.”

“It did earn him enough money to pay rent,” Cas states. “So I didn’t complain, no matter how bad the films were.”

“Look where he is now though. Casted in everyone’s favorite medical drama,” Dean remarks.

Cas beams. “Yes, yes he very indeed is.” He sighs and starts on his own plate of spaghetti. Dean focuses on his meal as well, _worshipping_ every bite. He keeps his moans back and wipes his mouth from time to time, making sure he didn’t look like an idiot with cream on his face.

“How’d you decide to go into Chemistry?” Dean asks after a minute of silence, the topic suddenly coming to his head.

Cas looks up and ponders on his answer while chewing his food. “I think one of the main reasons was that my Chemistry tutor was exceptional. Home-schooling wasn’t great for me, overall. But Chemistry just— came to me.”

Dean nods as he listens attentively.

“It got better with community college. The professors were dedicated and everyone was wonderful. I never knew I could be so confused and happy at the same time,” Cas says, another smile growing on his face. “It taught me a lot more than whatever I learned at home.” His smile fades away as he drops his head down and continues eating. Dean wonders what he’s thinking about.

His plate is already three quarters empty and he wants more, but it’d be weird to ask. His stomach is already bloating anyway.

Cas has been quiet for the past three minutes and Dean doesn’t mind, figuring he’s tired and that it’s _been a long day_ , like he said before. Yet something feels off when Cas gets up and collects Dean’s empty plate. The way Cas pushes his chair back is too harsh and Dean hears him breathe louder than usual. Cas rinses their plates and puts them in the empty dishwasher.

Dean drinks his water and watches him with concern as Cas turns back to the sink and washes his hands. He takes an unnecessarily lengthy time to wipe them with paper-towels.

“You sure you’re okay?” Dean asks.

Cas sighs and swivels his body back to face Dean. “Yes, I’m just—” He immediately halts his speech when his elbow hits the metal utensil holder at the edge of the counter, pushing it off and sending it to the floor with an ear-piercing _clang._

Dean gets up immediately to help him with the scattered forks and spoons on the floor. He sees Cas’ hands shaking again as they tried gathering up the mess.

“It’s fine, sorry—”

“Cas, you’re shaking,” Dean utters softly.

Cas murmurs continuously along the lines of “I’m fine” and “I’m sorry”, picking up three spoons at once and placing them into the holder.

Dean doesn’t know what to do. Cas was obviously triggered by something, and Dean wants to slap himself for talking in the first place.

“Hey,” Dean tries again. “Did I talk about things you didn’t want to talk about? I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“No. No Dean, you didn’t do anything,” Cas says quickly, stopping as he takes a few breaths.

“You can be honest with me,” Dean assures.

“No, Dean you didn’t— I’ve gotten used to talking about— things,” Cas says. He slumps himself to the ground and leans his back against the cabinet, still hiding his face away. “But it’s different now.”

Dean takes the utensil holder and places it back on the counter away from the edge. He moves to sit next to Cas, keeping the distance between them safe.

“Okay,” Dean mutters. “Okay. You can talk to me if you want, I won’t judge.”

Cas keeps his head down and forces a tiny smile. “You don’t have to sit through this, I’m sorry. You should probably go.”

“You’re not being a burden to me, if that’s what you think,” Dean says.

Cas sighs, shaking his head. “I’m sorry.”

“There’s no reason to be. Okay? This isn’t your fault,” Dean reassures.

Cas rises his head at that and turns it away from Dean, taking another breath. He quickly wipes the corner of his left eye and circles his arms over his bent legs.

“It’s not my fault,” Cas repeats himself.

“Yeah, it’s not.”

Dean gives him a few minutes to recollect himself. Audrey walks over to them and settles beside Cas, rubbing her small head against his leg.

Cas sighs another time and unfolds his legs, letting her climb onto his lap. “I just found out my uncle passed away from a stroke,” he says. _Well, fuck,_ Dean wasn’t expecting that.

“Crap, why didn’t— I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have bothered you,” Dean says.

“Seven months ago,” Cas states. “He passed in February, and I just found out through a phone call with my cousin.”

Dean drops his head down, wondering what he could possibly say. He has no business in asking why he just found out.

“I’m so sorry, Cas. Were you close to him?” Dean asks.

Cas forms his mouth in a thin line and laughs almost bitterly. “No, he was awful to me. He thought he could control me and Gabriel just because he was rich enough to take us in.”

“Take you in?” Dean asks carefully.

Cas nods. “My mother died giving birth to me. There were- complications because she had high blood pressure. Still don’t know where my father is, and Zachariah was the only family member who could afford two more kids.”

Dean takes in the info one by one, feeling his heart drop to his stomach. “Shit,” he says uselessly.

“Yes, it was absolute shit,” Cas responds, twisting his mouth in a frown. “I hadn’t seen or spoken to him in six years, so I just- don’t know what to feel. In a way, it’s hard to process.” His shoulders have relaxed and he’s breathing normally again.

“Okay. Yeah, I get that,” Dean says.

Cas shakes his head. “I’m sorry you have to sit through some thirty year old man crying in front of you.”

“C’mon Cas, I said don’t be sorry.”

“Right, sorry. I mean- okay.”

Dean smiles and stands up, offering out a hand to Cas. “Alright. How about you and me get up and make some hot chocolate, huh?”

Cas looks up at him, slightly weary-eyed. “From scratch?”

“Hell yeah. I may not be as great a cook as you, or my mom, but I definitely make the same hot chocolate she does,” Dean says.

Cas curls his mouth up, keeping his eyes on him as he puts his hand over Dean’s. “If you say so.”

Dean does most of the work while Cas leans against the counter, watching him, and takes out whatever ingredients they could need. He doesn’t mind at all. Cas goes to the bathroom and stays there for five minutes before coming back with a freshly washed up face. Dean’s stomach does a flip when Cas appears next to him at the counter, inclining himself into his space.

“Is it done?” Cas asks.

Dean finishes stirring both mugs of hot chocolate and hands one over to Cas. “Yep. Here you go.”

Cas takes a big sip from it, pauses for two seconds and smiles. “This is exactly what I needed. Thank you.”

“Feeling better?” Dean asks and takes a sip himself. He never fails at hot chocolate, not once.

Cas just stares at him and grins, nodding anyway. “Yes, I’m feeling much better.” He shuts his mouth tight in a way of suppressing his laughter. Dean looks at him in questioning when Cas shakes his head and sighs.

Cas takes a napkin from the table and literally wipes the milk foam off of Dean’s mouth with it. Dean laughs and blushes immediately, biting the bottom of his lip.

“Thank you for being here. You didn’t have to be,” Cas says.

“Of course I did.”

Cas continues leering at him, flickering his eyes to Dean’s lips every so often. He pauses, swallows and blinks a few times, clearing his throat. “Do you want to watch TV?”

“Sure.”

 

+++

 

“Primates never fail to fascinate me,” Cas states, narrowing his eyes at the screen, where a baboon reacts enthusiastically to a card trick done by a man. “All that intelligence in an entire species… I’m afraid there might be a day where that ape movie comes to life.”

He hears no response and turns his head towards Dean. _Oh._ Dean has his head tilted back with his glasses still in place, eyes shut behind them. Cas had no idea when he started showing sleepiness and dozed off. It had only been an hour since they started watching Animal Planet.

Dean’s chest heaves up and down. Cas knows he shouldn’t look, but he can’t help but notice the calmness in Dean’s face as he sleeps and the relaxed posture he carries. Cas looks down to see their forearms touching. He's not sure at which point of watching TV Dean reached out to him.

“Dean?” Cas softly calls.

Dean stays the same, breathing in and out with no other response. He’s definitely sound asleep and it’d almost hurt to interrupt him.

Cas doesn’t realize he’s watching him until the fifth minute. His feelings for Dean are getting stronger by the day. It sounds ridiculous in his head, how he could get so attached to someone in a matter of days, just living across them. He basically spilt half of his past and cried in front of this man, and he could be a serial killer for all he knew.

There’s still so much to learn about him though, despite the amount Cas already knows. Cas wants to hang out and have more dinners with him and watch him dance, but he doesn’t know _how_ to have that much with someone and _feel_ things for them at the same time.

He’s also aware that Dean’s attracted to him, it’s not hard to guess, but he can’t be a hundred percent sure if Dean’s feelings go further than that. He just— doesn’t know.

Dean shifts in his sleep a bit and mumbles gibberish under his breath, moving his head to the side. Cas smiles. “Dean?” he calls again, just to make sure. Dean stays in place and starts to snore, mouth slightly parted.

Cas switches the TV off and finds an extra blanket. He carefully removes Dean’s glasses from his face and lays the blanket on him, taking every movement slowly to not wake him up.

“You know, it’d be nice to see you dance one day,” Cas whispers. “I already think you’re a marvellous dancer.”

Dean’s eyelashes rest on his face beautifully.

“Okay. Good night, Dean.”

 

+++

 

**12 th September, Monday**

 

**_If you’re reading this later than 7am, I’ve gone for work— but there’s an extra breakfast on the table. I wonder who’d take it…_ **

Dean smiles as he reads the post-it Cas left on the coffee table. What a dork.

**_If you’ve awoken in the middle of the night and realized you’re not in your brother’s apartment, I’d suggest going back if you’re worried about the cat…_ **

“Crap.” He checks the time and it’s 8:45am; Achilles could have destroyed half the apartment by now. “Crap, crap, crap.” He gets up, folds the blanket and gets to the kitchen to see what looks like cheese omelette bread in a plastic container.

**_Warm it up! :)_ **

God, Cas is way too good and cute for him.

Dean takes the breakfast and hurries back to Sam’s apartment, giving Audrey a scratch on the head before leaving. The apartment is fine, Achilles is meowing for food, and Dean’s phone is vibrating in his pocket.

“Damn it.”

He feeds Achilles his dry food and checks his phone to see a missed FaceTime call from Sam and three messages from Cas.

**_Cas_ **

**_> > Sorry I didn’t wake you, I didn’t want to_ **

**_> > Wait I mean you were sound asleep I didn’t mean I was lazy to_ **

The last message is a series of worried looking emojis. Dean laughs and replies back, putting his breakfast in the microwave.

**_< < Got it._ **

**_< < Thanks for breakfast_ **

**_< < You’re the best! ;)_ **

Dean gets a reply a few seconds later.

**_> > You’re the best too, Dean._ **

Dean laughs out loud at that one and takes a while to compose himself. He’s fucking screwed.

****

 


	7. Chapter 7

**12 th September, Tuesday**

Dean lies on the couch with Achilles pawing at his chest. He checks his watch and sighs. “I gotta get to work, buddy.”

Achilles doesn’t respond and just sits there, cleaning himself as if Dean’s chest is a common place to do so.

“C’mon. I know I haven’t been here for long,” Dean says. “And you’ve been a pain in my ass, but I’ll miss having you around.”

Achilles meows and needs at his shirt.

“I’m talking to a fucking cat,” Dean admits, shaking his head. He sits up and gently pushes Achilles away. Achilles follows his feet as Dean goes to get changed.

Dean feeds him and closes the door on Achilles a few minutes later and turns to see Cas by the opposite door, carrying a ring folder with his keys in one hand. Cas lifts his head and smiles.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Hey,” Dean replies, beaming back at him. Cas is wearing a grey sweater vest over a blue shirt, pretty much a typical teacher’s outfit, but _damn_ , did he look good in it.

“I’m assuming you’re going for work?” Cas asks.

“Yeah, I’ve got class soon,” Dean says. He stares at the way Cas’ hair falls on his face for once.

Cas smiles and touches his hair, pushing it to the side. “Sorry. My co-workers kept playing with my hair today, they say it’s very soft.”

Dean does all he can to not reach out and pet Cas himself. He laughs and nervously puts his hands in his pockets. “Looks good that way,” he whispers.

“What?”

“Nothing-”

A small paper card falls out of Cas’ ring folder, making Dean instinctively reach down for it. He hears Cas thank him as he picks it up from the floor, and widens his eyes at the lipstick mark stained on the name of a woman with her contact details.

“Pamela Barnes?” Dean reads.

Cas leaves his mouth open, staring at the card Dean’s holding. “Yes. I mean no, she’s just- she was just being friendly. She came into the school to give the students a motivational talk, that’s all.”

Dean forces a smile, doing what he can to ignore the tiny pit of jealousy in his stomach. “Right,” he says, handing the name card back to Cas.

“I completely forgot about it. Really, I don’t need this,” Cas adds, shaking his head as he folds the card in half.

Dean just nods and bites his lip, trying not to laugh at the situation. Cas is literally trying to assure him that he isn’t interested in Pamela in that way when he doesn’t have to.

 _Fuck it_ , Dean thinks. “Do you wanna have dinner with me tonight?” he asks, loud and clear. “We don’t have to. I mean, it’s a weekday and I know you’re busy, but…”

Cas immediately perks his head up, eyes filled with surprise. The good kind. “Yes _,”_ he answers. “Let’s have dinner.”

“Really?” Dean says, wondering if Cas really got the message this time. “Like, outside? On a date? I’m asking you on a date.”

Cas nods, the corner of his mouth curling up slowly. “Absolutely.”

Dean beams from cheek to cheek, not even caring, and scratches the back of his neck. It’s _that_ easy. “Great! Yeah, uh- I’ll be back by seven or seven thirty. That okay?”

Cas smiles. “Yes. What do you reckon we have?”

Dean shrugs. “I don’t know yet. I’ll text you if anything comes to mind.”

“Same here, then.”

“Awesome,” Dean replies, not knowing what else to say. Cas blinks and drops his head, but Dean catches the blush in his cheeks.

“You better get to work,” Cas says.

Dean’s thoughts on work come back to mind. “Right! Yeah, I better go- crap,” he adds, checking the time again. Class starts in five minutes.

“Have fun,” Cas utters, starting to pace back to his apartment.

“You too,” Dean says automatically. “I mean- you know what I mean.”

Cas laughs. “See you.”

Dean just grins and breathes out, “Yeah,” before he turns and takes off to work.

There’s a spring in his step.

He's going on a date with Cas.

Jo notices the lift in his mood when he walks into the studio, greeting her with a warm smile. She raises an eyebrow and asks, “What’s up with you?”

Dean turns to her and shrugs. “Can’t I be nice?”

“I mean, it’s pretty rare,” Jo replies. Dean rolls his eyes.

“He’s got a date tonight.”

They both turn to the voice of Missouri, who walks past them with a notebook carried by her arm.

Dean opens his mouth in shock. “How’d you know?”

“I’ve known you for quite a while now, boy. Don’t mess it up,” Missouri simply answers, smiling at him before walking into her office.

Dean shakes his head, turning back to Jo. “That woman’s psychic, I swear.”

“So you asked that _Castiel_ guy out?” Jo asks teasingly, playing with his name.

“Yeah, asked him just now. No idea where we’re going, though,” Dean says.

“Oh- take him to that new French restaurant. I’ve had three successful dates over there,” Jo suggests.

Dean shrugs. “French? I don’t know, seems a little too fancy for us. We’re more simple and relaxed.”

Jo smirks, shaking her head. “It’s your first date with him. Just don’t take him to a cheap-ass diner,” she says, walking away to her class.

“I wasn’t going to,” Dean mutters. “But now I’m craving cheap-ass diner burgers.”

He feels constant buzzes in his pocket as he heads to his own class. Quickly fishing out his phone, he sees the texts from Cas and doesn’t bother to hide his smile.

**_Cas_ **

**_> > I was thinking of just going to this simple Italian restaurant_ **

**_> > I know we’ve already had pasta and pizza and everything Italian but it’s a nice comfortable place :)_ **

**_> > :) :)_ **

**_> > I’m sorry, my fingers slipped.                                   _ **

Dean snickers out loud, not caring that he’s still carrying his phone despite the fact that he’s already in the studio room with his students.

**_< < Sounds great ;) I’ll knock on your door later_ **

Almost immediately, Cas replies before Dean can put away his phone.

**_> > Alright! :)_ **

Dean decides that’s all the texting that needs to be done and places his phone in his bag.

 

+++

 

Charlie’s over at Cas’ place ten minutes after Dean asks him out, digging at his closet.

“What if he doesn’t like me?”

Charlie doesn’t even pause or turn around. “You’re overthinking again, bud.”

“Right. But what if-”

“No what if’s. That guy is in to you, and he’s not an asshole. If I turn out to be wrong, you can yell at me all you want,” Charlie says, swiftly turning around with a hanged blue shirt in hand.

Cas sighs and observes the shirt from the bed. “I would never yell at you. And- he’s already seen me in that.”

Charlie rolls her eyes and goes back to digging. “You know, it’s not like it’s your first time alone with him.”

“I know, but this is an actual first date. He knows I like him, he _knows._ I feel like I’m in a high school situation. A high school situation I’ve never experienced. My brain is getting younger and younger at this point and I don’t know if I’ll ever-”

“Blabbering, Cas! How about this?” Charlie says, holding up a black dress shirt.

Cas takes a breath. He looks at the shirt; black isn’t something he wears often, but he figured he could look pretty decent in it. “Yes, let’s go with that one.”

Charlie smiles. “Great! Now put this on with some jeans and you’re good to go,” she states.

He goes behind the dressing screen with his clothes. He quickly changes and pats down his shirt as he sees himself in the mirror, wondering if what he has on is enough.

“Is this okay?” he asks, walking out with his arms open at his sides.

Charlie cocks her head and studies him for a couple of seconds. She walks up to him and begins folding his sleeves so that they only cover half his arm.

“There,” she says, buttoning both sleeves up. “Wait- don’t choke yourself.” She lets the top two button of his shirt loose and steps back to observe him.

“Anything else?”

“One more thing. _Relax_. NASA can see how nervous you are,” Charlie states with a comforting smile.

Cas takes a breath and returns the gesture. “I just- haven’t been on a date in years.”

“I know. There’s nothing wrong with this, but you don’t go on a date with just anybody you see. This guy must be pretty special for you to say yes,” Charlie says. “Just pretend like it’s all the other times you’ve had dinner with him.”

Cas nods. “Okay.”

“Okay!” Charlie repeats, widely beaming.

“Okay. I can do this.”

“Yes, you can!”

“Thank you, Charlie. If it wasn’t for you, I might have cancelled out of panic.”

Charlie gives him a reassuring smile, patting his arm. “I’m the best. Kay, I have to head back to Dorothy. Good luck!”

Cas watches her make her own leave in two seconds.

 

++

 

A chorus of “Thanks, Dean!”, “Have a good night!”, and “Bye, sir!” rushes through the room as class ended.

Dean waves at his students as he starts to pack. “Night, guys!”

It’s a great thing he remembered to bring an extra shirt to change into after a shower; he doesn’t want to smell of sweat when he gets back to the apartment. The showers at the studio had better water pressure anyway.

He has a brisk shower and checks the time on his phone. _7:09pm._ He’ll get back to the apartment in no time and change into actual decent clothes and him and Cas would be ready to go by 7.30. He says his goodbyes to his co-workers and heads out with a steady walk.

He wonders how they’ll get to that restaurant. Are they going to walk to wherever this Italian place is? Take a cab? Does Cas even own a car?

He starts thinking of his own Impala; hopefully his Mom’s taking good care of her. Oh God, would Mom and Cas have to meet soon?

“Overthinking,” he mutters to himself. He continues his pace on the sidewalk and distracts himself from his thoughts with some music.

Dean gets to the apartment a bit later than he thought he would. He knocks on Cas’ door, hoping he wouldn’t mind.

He starts talking as soon as the door opens. “Hey Cas, I’m just gonna go get-”

Dean halts mid-sentence. Cas is in front of him looking really fucking hot, and Dean’s just staring at him.

“Get what, Dean?” Cas asks, slyly smiling.

Dean clears his throat and remembers to look at Cas’ face instead of everywhere else. “Changed! I’m gonna go get changed, and check on Achilles. Then we’ll go.”

“Alright. I’ll get my coat,” Cas says with a nod as he paces back into his apartment, leaving the door open.

Dean sighs after him. Cas looks _really_ good, and it’s giving Dean a bit of anxiety since he hasn’t exactly planned on what to wear yet. He turns to the opposite door and gets himself in to rush straight to the bedroom for his bag of clothes, but stops when he sees Achilles in the corner of his eye at the kitchen.

Achilles is quiet and still, looking up at him with those big eyes as if he’d done something wrong. Dean looks around. There didn’t seem to be anything Achilles dropped. He meows once, but it’s a bit lower than usual and it sounds like he’s in pain.

“What’s wrong, buddy?” Dean cowers down to him and pets his head.

Achilles just looks around silently and doesn’t make an effort to curl into Dean’s hand. For a cat with curled ears, he looked like a very sad cat.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Dean asks again.

“Dean, is everything alright?”

Dean turns behind him to see Cas at the kitchen doorway. “Something’s wrong with Achilles, I don’t know what.”

Achilles shifts away from Dean and starts to walk. With a very obvious limp.

“Fuck. That’s not good,” Dean states. “Hey, buddy! That’s enough walking.”

“Oh no. Did he fall?” Cas asks, lowering himself next to Dean.

Dean sighs and runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “He must’ve. God, I’m- I have to take him to the vet, Cas. I can’t leave him like this.”

“Of course. I’ll drive you,” Cas says. He lifts his hand to shut up Dean’s protests. “I insist. I understand how important he is to you and your family.”

Dean glances at Achilles. The ginger cat sits so silently that it’s almost weird to see.

“Thank you.”

They gently get Achilles into the carrier and leave immediately. Not much conversation is done in the car on the way to the vet, other than Dean getting Achilles to calm down while he’s wailing in the carrier. Dean also calls the clinic, pleading for them to have one last patient. The woman on the other end gives in, since Achilles is already registered with them.

“We’re almost there, buddy,” Dean whispers.

They eventually get to the vet clinic and Dean has a difficult time focusing. He sees a bunch of people working, sad-looking dogs, and Cas looking mildly concerned for him.

“Dean?”

“Sorry. Yeah, we better go find someone.”

It takes a few questions from the nurse, some blank spaces to fill in, and a bit of waiting for them to get to meet the vet.

“Are you okay?” Cas asks while they’re waiting.

“Yeah, I just feel like shit for leaving him alone.”

“You were at work, there’s no way you would have known. Don’t blame yourself for this,” Cas says.

“Yeah. Still, though. It’s tough watching him like this,” Dean grunts.

Cas doesn’t respond much but with a nod and an assuring smile. It’s not the greatest place to have a conversation.

Dean hasn’t even thought about what could be wrong with Achilles. He could have fallen from the kitchen counter and broken something. He might even need surgery if it’s serious, and fuck, where’s Dean going to get that kind of money? How the hell is he going to tell Sam and Jess that he managed to get their cat hurt within nine days of them being alone together?

“Mr Winchester?” a voice calls for him. “Dr Richardson is ready to see Achilles.”

Dean nods and thanks the nurse quickly as he gets up with Achilles in the carrier. He turns to Cas to ask if he’d rather stay in the waiting room or accompany him, because Dean would rather have the latter in case he zones out or panics or forgets what the vet says.

“Dean, would you prefer for me to go with you?” Cas asks first, beating him to it.

Dean sighs with relief. “Um, yeah. If you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t,” Cas reassures.

They walk into the vet’s office and greet a young lady with dark hair by her table.

“Hi, I’m Dr Richardson. Which one of you is Mr Winchester?” Dr Richardson asks.

Dean slightly raises his hand. “That’ll be me. This is my friend, Castiel.”

Dr Richardson nods at both of them. “I’m new here, it’s a pleasure to meet you both. And this must be Achilles,” she says, gesturing to the carrier.

“Yeah. I think he fell off the kitchen counter while I was gone. I’m not sure how bad it is, but he’s limping,” Dean explains.

“When did you find him?” she asks.

“About half an hour ago. But I was at work for two hours before that, I don’t know when exactly it happened,” Dean answers.

“Alright, let’s have a look at him.”

Achilles gets out of the carrier, still limping, onto the examination table. He panics a little at the unfamiliar atmosphere until the vet manages to calm him down and lays him gently without causing any discomfort to his leg.

“He’s still in a bit of shock, so I’m going to make sure he maintains his blood pressure. Later on we’ll have to go through some X-Rays to see if there’s any serious damage. Sound good?” Dr Richardson asks, gently stroking Achilles’ head.

Dean nods. “Yeah. Uh, how serious does it need to be for him to have surgery?” he asks.

Dr Richardson forms a thin line on her mouth. “It really depends on where his injury is. We can only be sure when the X-Rays are ready,” she says, shifting back her focus on the cat. Dean doesn’t like not knowing.

He feels a comforting squeeze on his left shoulder and turns his gaze to Cas, who’s offering him a warm smile.

“You seem tense,” Cas says, stating the obvious.

Dean returns a small smile. “My mind’s all over the place right now. Thanks for being here.”

“Anytime.”

Several minutes go by as Dr Richardson carries on her work of conducting a physical examination and fluid therapy on Achilles. She goes through Achilles’ medical records and thankfully, Sam and Jess kept Achilles updated with his vaccinations and already had him neutered. Dean isn’t sure how to feel when Dr Richardson tells him it’s most probably a fracture on Achilles’ tibia and fibula, but it’s fortunately closed instead of open.

He’s still anxious right until the X-Ray results are ready. It must be unnerving to watch because Cas squeezes his shoulder a few more times.

“Like I said, simple fracture on his lower leg. He’ll be fine,” Dr Richardson announces with a smile. “Surgery isn’t needed, but he needs to wear a cast for a few weeks. I’m going to give him some pain medication and wrap him up, then he’ll be good to go.”

A relief washes through Dean when he hears the word ‘fine’.

“Thanks, doc. It’s really great of you to stay back,” he says.

“Just doing my job,” Dr Richardson replies with a smile. As she treats Achilles she explains the prescriptions and aftercare that Dean needs to take note of. “It’s a good idea to have him in cage rest for a few days, or even a week. It’s a simple fracture, but it could still take up to more than a month to properly heal. Just in case, he should come back in two months for another check-up.”

“Will do.”

Both Dean and Cas take seats on the bench while Dr Richardson works on wrapping a cast on Achilles’ leg. Dean leans back against the wall and turns his head in Cas’ direction to see Cas staring right back at him with a fond smile on his face.

“What?” Dean asks, smiling a bit himself.

Cas shakes his head, not letting go of his gaze. “Nothing. I just find you quite amazing.”

Dean’s sure his brain cuts all responses for a good five seconds. There he was, in his hoodie and ballet tights and stressed out hair, being called ‘quite amazing’ by Cas, who was all beautifully dressed and all beautifully- _faced_.

All Dean does is look away from him and reply in a mocking tone, “Yeah? Well _you’re_ \- quite amazing.”

Cas laughs softly. “How kind of you.”

Dean lets that laugh be the reason for his good mood, despite the drastic turn of events.

 

+++

 

Cas listens to Dean thank him for the millionth time as they get to the hallway separating their apartments.

“It was no problem,” he replies with again. It’s silent for two seconds until Cas realizes they should probably part ways. “Anyway, I’m glad Achilles is fine, and I hope he recovers quickly. Good night, Dean,” he added, turning to face his door.

“Hey Cas, wait!” Cas turns back to Dean’s call. He watches as Dean hesitates and puts the carrier and bag of medicine on the ground.

“Yes?”

Dean nervously rubs his hands together. “Uh, I just- I’m really sorry tonight didn’t work out the way it was supposed to,” he sadly says.

“It’s okay, Dean. I would’ve done the same for Audrey,” Cas remarks.

“Yeah, but-” Dean takes a step closer. “Truth is, I’ve been trying to ask you out since… I don’t know, since I met you?”

“Really?” Cas asks without surprise.

“Yeah,” Dean says, beaming widely. “Um, I like you. I really like you actually, that’s what I’m trying to say.”

Cas remembers to appreciate this moment.

“Good. I really like you too,” he mutters in reply.

Dean smirks. “Yeah, kind of figured,” he says and gets another laugh from Cas. “I want to see you, still, after Sam and Jess get back. Do you like me enough for that?”

Cas pretends to think and purposely waits a while to answer, silently enjoying Dean’s reaction to it. “Yes, I do like you enough. What time are you free this Saturday?”

“Any time after four is good,” Dean answers. “Do you want to go grab coffee somewhere?”

Cas ponders for a second. “Or, you could come over to my place for coffee, and then I’ll finally take you out for dinner,” he suggests.

“I’d love that,” Dean says.

“Good. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?” Cas asks.

Dean looks slightly taken aback by that and Cas wonders if he said something wrong. “Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Cas smiles at him and wishes him good night another time as he unlocks the door into his apartment.

 _What a day_.

He’s still smiling from what Dean said to him, and he’s so proud of himself for maintaining his composure for so long. Apart from all his thoughts, Charlie suddenly comes to mind and it’s probably the right thing to do to tell her what happened. He takes out his phone and realizes it’s been on silent mode this whole time.

**_Charlie_ **

**_> > HOW IS IT GOING_ **

**_> > fine you’re busy I’ll leave you_ **

**_> > …cas how did it go?? it’s pretty late_ **

**_> > cas_ **

**_> > caaas_ **

**_> > !!!!!!!!!!!_ **

**_> > are you safe???_ **

The messages are sent several minutes apart. Cas laughs at his best friend’s concerns and almost begins to type in a reply until more messages come in.

**_> > I see you online, don’t try to hide from me_ **

**_> > did you guys kiss???_ **

Cas stares at his screen with an open mouth and realizes what he has to do.

**_< < BRB_ **

He puts his phone away and opens the door; Dean is still there, with his door already unlocked and his hands ready to carry in a cat and a bag. He sees Cas and pauses, eyebrows lifted up.

Cas smiles and walks up to him with a sigh.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks.

Dean hesitates, and for a moment Cas gets a rush of panic running through his spine.

“I don’t know, _can_ you?” Dean replies.

Cas feels an embarrassed grin spread on his face. “ _May_ I kiss you?”

Dean smirks and takes another pause. “Yes. I like you enough.”

Cas is sure he’s supposed to be the one leaning in, but Dean beats him to it and smoothly catches their lips together. Cas quickly cups Dean’s jaw with both hands just for the sake of keeping them closer. He feels Dean’s arms snake around his waist as their lips meet another time, and another, until Achilles lets out an annoyed meow from his carrier.

They both laugh and pull away from each other. “Sorry buddy,” Dean apologizes to the cat and takes the carrier. “So- did you come out here just to kiss me?” he teases.

Cas grins shakes his head. “I also wanted to ask you something.”

“What?”

Cas helps him carry the bag of medicine off the ground.

“Do you want to order a pizza?” he asks.

Dean lifts up a corner of his mouth. “Hell yes.”

 

**13 th September, Wednesday**

 

Cas calmly opens his eyes, awaking in his own room. He sighs as he remembers the night before, the kiss with Dean, them setting up a space for Achilles to rest, and then playing _2 Truths 1 Lie_ while taking forever to finish their pizza.

_“I was bitten by Achilles when I first met him. I’ve broken my little toe twice from ballet. And uh, I’ve got a pole in my apartment,” Dean listed out with a smirk. “Which is the lie?”_

_Cas widened his eyes and thought through it. “The first one.”_

_“Damn it, how’d you know?”_

_Cas laughed. “You’ve told me about your toe, and I think you’ve casually mentioned the pole. Achilles doesn’t seem like a biter either.”_

_Dean grunted. “Fine. You go.”_

_Cas already had some in mind. “One; I’ve broken friendships over Monopoly. Two; I have a minor hearing loss. And three; I’ve been hit by a car.”_

_Dean widened his eyes at all three. “Dude, what the hell?”_

_Cas shrugged. “One of them is a lie.”_

_Dean took his time, analysing all three. “The- the last one?” he answered._

_Cas shook his head. “I was actually hit by a car- in college. No permanent injuries.”_

_“Dude, what the hell?” Dean repeated._

_“It wasn’t moving fast. The first one is a lie. I still keep in touch with people I played with,” Cas explained._

_“And the hearing loss?”_

_“From birth, in my left ear. I can hear you perfectly fine here, but I probably wouldn’t hear you correctly in a noisy environment,” Cas stated. “I can’t catch soft background noises too.”_

_“Really?” Dean asked, pondering something. “Wait, is that why you take a while to get to the door sometimes?”_

_Cas smiled. “Probably. I should really get my doorbell fixed.”_

Cas doesn’t remember when they stopped playing, but he does remember another kiss he shared with Dean that night right before he left. He sighs and rubs his eyes with a yawn, stretching lazily-until he realizes how bright the day already looks from behind his blinds.

He grabs his phone in a hurry, checking the time and date.

_10:09am Wednesday_

Well— shit, he has his first class in twenty-one minutes.

By some miracle he’s only five minutes late to class. His students notice the extra mess of his hair and tie and poke fun at him for it. Cas smiles at them, takes a deep breath, and starts his lesson.

Look what Dean Winchester’s done to him.


	8. Chapter 8

**14 th September, Thursday**

Dean’s been smiley ever since that night with Cas. It definitely doesn’t help when he’s on FaceTime with Sam and Jess, telling them about the incident with Achilles, and he sees Cas pop in a text about how his students are making fun of him for his beeping phone.

 _“Do you think this is funny, Dean?” Jess snapped_.

Dean did all he could after that to ensure he did not find anything about the incident funny and only texted Cas back after the FaceTime session.

Sam and Jess come back today in a few hours; Dean doesn’t know if he should be more happy or sad. On one hand, he’s going back to his place which is much closer to the studio (and it’s great to have Sam and Jess back, of course). On the other, he’s really going to miss being neighbors with Cas and having Achilles around.

He spots something shiny by the couch and goes to see what it is. Half peeking out of one of the cushions is a black-stringed bracelet with a wing-shaped metal in the centre.

Cas was here last night, just for the sake of spending more time with Dean. They didn’t do much other than watch TV and kiss and pack up Dean’s stuff, but it was fun nonetheless. The bracelet must’ve slipped off of his wrist by accident when they were making out last night.

Dean smiles. He can’t wait for Saturday.

He hears the doorbell ring and checks the time. _5:14pm_. Cas is back from work and he probably noticed his bracelet’s missing. Dean grabs the bracelet and rushes to the door.

The flirty expression on his face quickly drops when he comes face-to-face with Sam and Jess opposite them.

“Hey!” Jess calls excitedly, giving Dean a hug.

Dean hugs her back, just registering that they’re back four hours early. “Hey- I didn’t think you guys were coming back until tonight!”

Jess pulls away and pats his cheek. “They gave us an earlier flight. Missed you.”

Dean smiles. “Missed you guys too. Achilles is at the back kitchen.”

Jess grins and heads her way. Sam drops his duffel and also wraps Dean in a big hug.

“Hey man,” Dean greets, slapping Sam’s shoulder. “How was Paris?” he asks after pulling away.

Sam sighs. “Paris was… great.”

“She didn’t book an earlier flight just for the cat, did she?” Dean asks.

“Nah, there were just some problems with the later one. How is he, by the way?” Sam says, carrying the bags in.

Dean rubs the back of his neck. “Still in his cage, but better at taking his medicine. Jess isn’t still mad, right?”

Sam shakes his head. “No, she came to her senses. It’s not your fault.”

“Yeah, I guess. Anyway, tell me more about Paris! What’d you guys do? Did you meet any mimes?” Dean asks, putting the bracelet in his pocket as Sam goes to drop himself onto the couch with a tired sigh.

“We met so many!” Jess comes in chiming from the kitchen. “Sam was petrified every time one appeared,” she adds.

“I don’t think it’s normal how many there were! They came right at my face,” Sam claims.

Dean chuckles. “Aw, Sam! Mimes are your friends-”

Two knocks on the already open door makes the three of them snap their heads in that direction.

“Dean? I think I left my—”

Cas takes a step in when he just looks up from his phone to see Sam and Jess in the apartment as well.

“Oh. Hello,” Cas greets, still standing there.

Dean figures it’s his cue. “Uhm- guys, this is Castiel Novak, your new neighbor. Cas, this is my brother and my sister in-law, Sam and Jess.”

Sam and Jess go up to him and say their own greetings. “Hi, Dean has told us a _lot_ about you,” Jess says.

Cas flickers his eyes to Dean with a shy smile. “Has he?”

“Yeah, it’s always Cas this, Cas that when he FaceTime him,” Sam adds in.

Dean’s about to interfere and deny that until Jess continues talking.

“Hey, we should all have lunch or dinner some time soon. Just some neighbor bonding. How’s Saturday?” Jess invites.

Dean meets Cas’ eyes again. “I’d love to, but I’m sorry, I’m… occupied on Saturday. Sunday afternoon would be good though,” Cas says.

 _Great,_ Dean thinks. Cas is already meeting the entire family.

“Sunday sounds great,” Sam agrees. “Dean? Sunday good for you?”

Dean’s still registering everything that happened in thirty seconds.

“Me? Yeah. Yeah, Sunday’s good,” he lets out.

Cas nods. “Good. Anyway, I have… teacher— work that I need to work on. It was very nice meeting you,” he says with a polite smile as he turns to go.

“Wait, Cas!” Dean halts him. Cas darts his gaze at Dean. “You forgot this,” Dean says as he lightly throws the bracelet in his direction.

Cas catches it, thank God, and switches his glance from the bracelet, to Dean, then to Sam and Jess, and back to Dean.

“Thank you Dean,” he manages as he makes his leave, closing the door behind him.

Sam and Jess turn toward Dean, waiting for him to speak.

“What?” Dean only says.

Sam narrows his eyes. “Did you sleep with him in our apartment?”

“What? No! C’mon, I’m not that gross,” Dean sneers.

“Then what was that whole exchange about?” Jess asks.

Dean shrugs. “I was just…”

Sam and Jess raise their eyebrows, expecting him to continue.

Dean sighs. “Look, he’s been around here a few times. But I never slept with him! I just… got to know him better. He’s a really great guy.”

“Aw! It’s so rare to see Dean in love,” Jess coos, holding onto Sam’s arm.

“I’ve only known him for twelve days, I’m not _in love_ ,” Dean argues.

“Yet,” Jess replies.

Dean rolls his eyes. “Yeah, whatever. What did you guys get me?”

“Oh.” Sam goes to unzip one of the luggage bags and gets out a see-through plastic bag full of keychains of the Eiffel Tower. “Here you go,” he says, handing a silver keychain to Dean.

Dean takes it, trying his best to hide his disappointment. “Ah. Something I’ve never had or seen before,” he says. “Thank you!”

“You can choose a different color if you don’t like that one,” Sam offers. He digs through the bag. “There’s gold, pink, blue…”

Jess snorts. “Give him his real present Sam, I can’t stand the look on his face.”

“You guys got me a real present?”

Sam grins and takes a cardboard box from the same luggage bag. “You’ve been complaining about your old ones for a while. Jess and I know you’ve been procrastinating on getting a new pair,” he explains.

“Wait, as in…” Dean pauses, dropping his mouth open when he opens the shoebox. “You guys got me new shoes!” he rejoiced.

“Very French and very satin,” Jess remarks.

“Man, thanks guys,” Dean says appreciatively as he holds one of the black ballet slippers. “Oh, the _quality_. These would definitely last longer and not break any toes.”

“Glad you like them. We figured it would be a nice thank you gift for watching the apartment. And Achilles,” Sam says.

Dean smiles. “You guys are too much. I get new shoes, a keychain, and a cute guy all from watching the cat. I should watch him more often.”

“Would you want to watch a puppy too?” Jess innocently asks.

“What? Why a puppy?”

Jess only beams widely at him.

“We were thinking of getting a puppy,” Sam answers.

Dean drops his mouth open. “A puppy _and_ Achilles? No way am I staying with both of them in the same room for more than an hour.”

“We just really want a dog. We’ll wait until Achilles is fully recovered so he won’t be jealous,” Jess states.

“You guys could ask Mom. I swear, she gets more dogs every time we visit,” Dean claims. “Hey- I’ll be right back, you guys can keep talking about dog breeds.” Dean gets up and heads for the door.

“Where are you going?” Sam asks.

“Nowhere!”

Dean shuts the door behind him before anyone else speaks and knocks on the door in front of him.

Cas opens his door quickly this time. “Oh. Hello Dean, what can I do for you?”

“I know you’re busy and all, but- I just wanted to see if you’re really okay with that whole family meal thing on Sunday. I hope they didn’t freak you out or anything,” Dean says.

“First of all, I’m not that busy. I just said I had work to do because I got scared and I didn’t have anything else to say. Second, I’m okay with it. But please be there with me,” Cas replies.

“Yeah, I will. Just wondering if you’ll be okay seeing me two days in a row.”

Cas chuckles and grabs both of Dean’s hands.

“I think I can gladly handle two. I like you enough.”

Dean beams and looks at the floor.

“What?” Cas asks.

“Nothing. I was going to wait until Saturday to ask you this, but, hey, do you want to be— my boyfriend?”

Dean’s slightly worried at Cas’ expression that drops when he asks that.

“I mean- you don’t have to be. What’s a boyfriend anyway? We could just—”

“Dean,” Cas cuts Dean’s panic off. “I definitely want to be your boyfriend. I just thought I already was.”

“Oh. Yeah, I can see why you’d think that. But you know, just making sure.”

“Just for clarification, I will most certainly be your boyfriend,” Cas says. “Now, are you planning on coming inside to watch TV with me?”

Dean grins. “I’ll be with you in a minute. I’m just going to go officially get out of Sam and Jess’ hair and say goodbye to Achilles.”

“Okay. I’ll leave the door unlocked.”

Dean returns to Sam and Jess’ place with at least ten springs in his step.

“Wow, where did that smile come from?” Sam asks from the living room couch.

“The land of getting a boyfriend, that’s where!” Dean exclaims excitedly as he jogs through the apartment, gathering his stuff.

Jess lifts her head from Sam’s lap. “Oh, congrats!”

“Thank you! I’m going to be at Cas’ place if you need me,” Dean says as he puts the shoebox with his luggage. “I can’t believe I’m going to go say goodbye to a cat.” He walks to the back of the kitchen and sees Achilles resting in his cage.

Achilles meows upon seeing him, and a pang of guilt hits Dean like a brick. He really is going to miss staying with him. Dean puts his hand in the cage and strokes Achilles by the head.

“I love you so much, you know that?” Dean whispers. Achilles curls into his hand and purrs.

Dean stays there for a while.

 

++

 

**_Charlie_ **

**_> > YAY CONGRATS!!_ **

**_> > :’)_ **

**_> > Dinner at my place next week, bring Dean_ **

****

**_Gabriel_ **

**_> > WOoHOo! congrats bro! ;)_ **

**_> > charlie told me. don’t freak out_ **

**_> > so when and where can i sign my approval?_ **

 

Cas laughs at the messages from his overly excited friend and brother. They really need to relax. He turns the TV on as he waits for Dean, flicking through channels until he lands on a documentary he’s already seen.

 Audrey awakens and stretches on the coffee table. Cas pats his lap in invitation and clicks his tongue at her. She eyes Cas and gets ready to pounce onto him before her attention snaps upwards towards the door. Cas turns to see Dean coming in, already jogging to the couch.

“Hey, boyfriend!” Dean calls excitedly. He says it, doesn’t regret it, but he sure as shit mentally kicks himself for how dumb he sounds.

Cas beams. “Hello.”

Dean plops down next to him on the sofa and softly greets Audrey, petting her by the head.

“How was work today?” he asks.

“Same old, same old. But my students have already began to speculate that I might be seeing someone,” Cas admits.

Dean raises an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“I just hope that news doesn’t get to the teachers all at once. The staffroom is full of gossip,” Cas says. “Not that I wouldn’t want people to not know. I just- probably have to answer the same questions again and again. It gets annoying.”

“Hm, I get that.”

“Yeah. And it’s not only them; Charlie just texted me. She’s expecting another dinner with the both of us at her place. Probably next week,” Cas grunts.

“Sounds great,” Dean affirms.

“No. Now that you’re officially my boyfriend she’s going to be weird and try to make you say an oath or something,” Cas says. “I promise you won’t do anything like that.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. I’m just worried about how Sam and Jess will act on Sunday. They get excited when I meet someone.”

“They seem very lovely though. I hope you’ve only said good things about me on FaceTime,” Cas teases.

Dean grins. “Yeah, shut up.”

Audrey positions herself on Cas’ lap for a belly rub. Cas gives in way too easily.

“I’m looking forward to this Saturday,” Cas remarks, letting Audrey catch his finger.

“Me too. Actually, there’s a reason I’m only available after four,” Dean makes known, positioning himself on the couch so that he faces Cas.

“I figured you had class until then.”

Dean shakes his head. “No, my class ends at eleven. I’ve got this thing… it’s nothing big, but it’s something I guess I have to go to.”

Cas switches his attention from Audrey entirely to Dean. “What is it?”

“I just got a callback for this thing I auditioned for. Some YouTuber wanted a bunch of dancers for a short film,” Dean admits.

“Dean, that’s great! Are you prepared?”

“Not in the slightest, but I’ll do my best. My audition video’s only decent, so there’s still room for me to do better,” Dean counters.

Cas suddenly goes silent and grins. “Do you by any chance still have that audition tape?”

Dean chuckles. “There’s no way you’re getting your eyes on my dancing ass.”

“I’ve never seen you dance and I really want to,” Cas says, moving closer to Dean. He even lifts Audrey up and places her behind him. “Please? I’m sure you look very stunning.”

“I do look very stunning. Too bad you’re not watching it,” Dean mutters.

Cas keeps staring in a way that his eyes get more pleading by the second.

“Fine, fine! You can watch it,” Dean agrees. “But I get to pick where we go on Saturday.”

Cas shows him a wide beam and leans in, giving Dean a short kiss.

“We have a deal.”

 

**17 th September, Sunday**

 

“C’mon baby, open up,” Jess coos at her cat. She holds Achilles by the chin, attempting to get the syringe into his mouth. As usual, Achilles darts his head away from the syringe at first, but eventually gives in and starts licking with a not so happy look on his face. “Good boy!” she cheers, scratching him by the head. She leaves the cat with some kibble to chew on and joins Sam at the kitchen counter where the coffee pot’s boiling. A soft thump comes from the front door.

“Paper’s here. Could you pour me a cup too, babe?” Jess requests as Sam grabs hold of the pot. Sam answers her with a nod.

Jess walks to the front door and swings it open. She doesn’t expect to see someone at the opposite door, bending over to take their morning paper.

“Oh my God. Sam!” Jess calls into the apartment.

Dean looks up at her with wide eyes behind his glasses. “Jess—”

“Sam, it’s happening!” Jess exclaims, feeling a wide beam growing on her face.

“What? What’s wrong?” Sam questions in a worried tone, rushing to Jess’ side.

Dean groans, “Come on, guys, it’s not—”

“Whoa. Well hello, _neighbor_ ,” Sam says as he sees Dean. “Nice shorts you got there. Jess, I owe you five.”

Dean looks down at his boxers and t-shirt. “Ha ha, very funny. Wait, what?”

Jess shrugs. “We placed a bet on when this would happen. I said this weekend, Sam said next.”

“Are you serious?” Dean hisses.

“Dean?” Cas’ voice comes from behind him.

“Hey Cas!” Jess greets.

“Oh. Jess, Sam. Hello,” Cas starts with, holding two cups of coffees. “Dean was just… um, Dean was— who I was occupied with yesterday.”

Dean rubs his temple. “Not making the situation better, man.”

“We can see that. Hey- since Dean’s already here, why don’t we move our lunch forward to brunch?” Sam asks jokingly.

Cas opens his mouth to answer before Dean cuts him off. “Nope, nope, nope,” he interjects, taking a cup of coffee from Cas and using his other hand to grab Cas’ free hand. “It’s way too early to deal with Sam and Jess,” he utters with a sigh as he pulls Cas back into the apartment, facing away from them.

Cas looks at their interlocked hands and smiles at Sam and Jess as his boyfriend pulls him away.

“I guess I’ll see you both at lunch,” Cas affirms, right before Dean shuts the door on them.

Jess waves goodbye at him and leans on the doorframe. “Huh. When do you think they’ll move in with each other?”

“They’ve only been dating for three days,” Sam notes.

“And have you seen your brother these past three days? I’ve never seen him smile that much around someone,” Jess says.

Sam nods in agreement. “Yeah, you’ve got a point. Okay, I say they’ll take around six months.”

“Really? I would say at least a year. I feel like Dean might freak out if it’s less than that.”

“Fine. Twenty bucks goes to you if they take more than a year from now. Twenty bucks for me if they take less than that,” Sam negotiates.

Jess turns to face him, holding out a hand.

“We have a deal.”

 

**23 rd June 2018, Saturday**

 

“Sam, could you hand this batch over to Cas?”

“Sure thing,” Sam says as he takes the container of freshly baked cookies. He opens the front door and heads to the opposite apartment, only to see Dean heading his direction in the hallway.

“Heya, Sammy! What’chu got there?” Dean asks.

Sam eyes the two duffel bags Dean is carrying. “Jess is baking cookies. She’s in a good mood. Are you staying for the whole week or something? You’ve got a lot packed there.”

“Not the whole week,” Dean says, taking the container from Sam and having a bite of a cookie. He moans into it and rolls his eyes. “Amazing. Anyway, I’m moving in.” Dean says it so casually that Sam doesn’t register it to it’s actual meaning.

“Wait, what?”

“I’m moving in,” Dean says, showing him a new key as he puts it in the lock. Sam looks at it, wondering if it’s really Dean he’s talking to. “Say hi to Jess and Achilles and Poppy for me, see ya!”

And just like that, Sam is left alone in the hallway.

“JESS!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed my DCBB, please (please) leave a kudos and comment if you liked it! :D  
> UPDATE 2018:  
> I added a Christmas timestamp to this last Christmas, go ahead and read it for good old 11NWA deancas established relationship fluff!!!


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